ROADSIDE BLUES
I do like a burnt out car
The intrigue
The drama
Stolen no doubt
A joyride
A mechanical thrill kill
Or maybe a criminal escapade
And the destruction of fingerprints you read in books
Removing all evidence
Could even be an insurance job
A red steer, so to speak
Abandoned a week before ignition
Gift wrapped in police tape
And waiting for action
I do like a burnt out car
EVENING No. 1
Dogs start to bark about now
Magpies start to sing
Cars rumble past but not many
Next door they practice scales
Piano with birds and dogs
And sone guitar that isn't blues
A plover throws in a harmony
And makes it high and lonesome
EVENING No. 2
Tonight its cattle and kookaburra
The cattle across the railway tracks
Pleading in steel pens
The kookaburra in the neghbours yard
Laughing in a tree
Tomorrow the kookaburra will be gone
And the cattle will wait for trucks
EVENING No. 3
Around and about
And all over the place
Walking towards the cattle
Just before dusk
Into the sun
To the place where ticks die
Happily ever after
A game of putt putt anyone?
EVENING No. 4
If you set it up they'll visit
Passing strangers with a song
Let's welcome them to the feast
And wish them a safe return
FISH AND CHIPS
Once something special
Now it sits with a broken heart
Recalling dreams and waiting
Hoping for a knock on the door
And somebody saying
I'm yours
Take me now
THE 304
I want to live in Zetland
Not Zea
But Zet
Such a cool name
Maybe even live in Botany Road
Not Physics
Not Chemistry
But Botany
'Hey, where do you live?'
'Botany Road, Zetland'
'Hey, that awesome.
I wanna live in Botany Road, Zetland, as well.'
ON A WARM SULTRY NIGHT
Crickets singing
Fan on a silent spin
It's Saturday and getting dark
The speedway's over
But cars still pass
They hiss through the humid air
And there's a rumble
Maybe a storm com ing to town
One more beer
And bed
I like that
I can sleep with the rain
Cheers
THE PLOVER
I like the plover
But the plover is as dumb as shit
Laying its eggs in stupid places
In the grass by the side off the road
Just waiting for the council slasher to arrive
Screeching g as the offspring are atomised
Or in the middle off the park
Near a footpath
Or on a grassy roundabout
I think they're related to spiders
Those who weave webs in car wing-morrors
I like to pl.over
But the plover is as dumb as shit
OTHER STUFF OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD
"Skill, without passion and imagination, is worthless."
Dawson Springs, Mt Kaputar
"Funerals are for the living. Graves are for the dead."
Forbes Caravan Park
"Once we fought for human rights and freedoms. Now we fight about the meaning of words and images."
Petrol pump, Bilpin
"A bad tattoo is like an ugly baby. It you've got one you'll love it no matter what."
Motel Mollymook
"If people who take their kids to political rallies are accused of indoctrination, why aren't parents who send their children to Sunday school accused of brainwashing." Surry Hills
Dawson Springs, Mt Kaputar
"Funerals are for the living. Graves are for the dead."
Forbes Caravan Park
"Once we fought for human rights and freedoms. Now we fight about the meaning of words and images."
Petrol pump, Bilpin
"A bad tattoo is like an ugly baby. It you've got one you'll love it no matter what."
Motel Mollymook
"If people who take their kids to political rallies are accused of indoctrination, why aren't parents who send their children to Sunday school accused of brainwashing." Surry Hills
