The Long Thaw

The ice waters down my whiskey as I sit on the patio.

I enjoy the musical clinks they make as I swirl the liquid.

The trickle of cold-fire douses my throat.

Though the ice never lasts long.

The condensation on the glass becomes my sweat.

I get up, again, and refill the drink with ice.

I glance down at the sausages in my yellowing kitchen.

They thaw in the sink.

Fatty, pink, glistening meat.

That will be blackened in the pan that is no longer non-stick.

The heat ruins all the beauty and reduces it to a puddle of salt.

I’ll keep drinking my whiskey on the rocks.

Til the thawing is done.

 

 

 

 

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Out There

Sixteen years in the cracked skin sun
Spewing out curses and pointing a gun
Red dust on her cuffs and flies up her nose
High from the bong made with the garden hose

Sick of heat an’ rust an’ burnt up grass
Good for nothing Father and his lazy ass
Drunken Mother who’s hardly at home
Nagging Nan never leaving her alone

Out there, everybody had a problem
The inability to leave the boredom
The subsequent irritation and regular abuse
Hitting the casino and hitting the booze

The cycle went on like the summer months
Despite her hopes and nightly stunts
Sneaking out to fade like the moon
Only to be caught like a stray and beaten til noon

She sent a reckless bullet to a cawing crow
That took off laughing at her hardened face below
Unsure if she intended it to die
Or just wanted to see it flee to the sky

Patriotism

Some might say: “What’s the harm of a little patriotism?” You live in a beautiful country and you should be extremely proud right?

There is nothing wrong in loving the country you live in, but you should love it for the right reasons.

On Australia Day many Australians wear the ‘Southern Cross’ and the classic yellow and green. They get boozed up and parade the streets. It’s a celebration that can (and has quite often) led to disgraceful behaviour. When I was a bit younger, I remember walking with my family down to the foreshore to watch the fireworks. On the walk home a car had hit someone, not fatally but enough to trigger other people climbing aboard the car and banging on the windows.

Only just this year one of my best friends was driving to a party we were at. She was parked at some traffic lights when a group of drunken men started shouting at her and one of them threw a beer bottle straight through her back windshield shattering the glass. She was absolutely petrified and ended up not celebrating that night.

In that respect, I don’t feel proud.

Recently, I was shown a poem written by the great Australian Phillip Adams called ‘I Love This Bloody Country’. It is a sort of parody of Dorothea Mackellar’s poem ‘My Country’ (http://www.dorotheamackellar.com.au/archive/mycountry.htm). Which to me was amazing because only a week earlier I had written something relatively similar. If you aren’t Australian it will be hard to understand a lot of the references, but it’s a well written piece of satire and…well…it speaks a lot of truths:
http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/features/i-love-this-bloody-country-a-heartfelt-poem/story-e6frg8h6-1227000096302?nk=ef412ad6bd7a689d623f441ce1e3751e

Here is what I had written in the style of a diminished hexaverse. It is nowhere as good as Phillip’s but the content is of the same theme:

The Land of Oz-Straya

Our sunburnt country
Is a sight to see.
Vast empty deserts.
Vibrant rainforests.
Secluded beaches.

Just ignore the
‘Bogan’ pride, slight
Racism, and
Tony Abbott.

Who are we?
Pioneers?
Invaders?

Straya!
G’day,

Mate.

I don’t want to seem like I hate my country. It has a lot of faults but it is my home and it’s not all bad. I will leave you with a link to a Joelistics song (Aussie rapper) which presents Australia in a much more positive way:

His lyrics are fantastic, but the video is what makes this memorable for me. A bunch of Aussies were asked to record snippets of things they thought represented Australia. The result was myriad of images that reminded me of the things I think are beautiful.