Tuesday, 20 March 2018

There is nothing I'd rather do than nothing
and frequently I do exactly that
looking for birds
or staring at the roots of a shrub -
is that something?
I am doing nothing
and loving it

Thursday, 18 January 2018

Top 100?

Cory Bernardi comes across as an idiot. Try these sentences:

"I suspect a great many more people have voted in the poll, and will listen to it, because of the outrage the industry that have attached themselves to it."

"It's preposterous they draw attention to something they pretend they don't want to endorse."
"This is the modern take on politics, that you have to be tolerant of everyone else's ideas unless you disagree with them."
The list itself is rubbish.
If you put Farnsie ahead of Daddy Cool you are a dead-set fuckwit. You're the Voice? My arse. Eagle Rock or death to you. (That is not a death threat under any law - it means the metaphoric death of extinguishment from history as a know-nothing and a never-was.)
Senators do not usually deserve death threats, nor are they allowed them under the law, though sometimes a bugger like this begs to have his teeth kicked in.
This senator is a turncoat, a rat, a traitor. Even the stupid old Liberal Party must hate the sight of him, and now his corny, committee-selected sounds.
We can but hope that this fake party fails to rate a quota next time, or that an angry God strikes down a hypocrite. 

Monday, 27 February 2017

Can I Compare Our Love to Pyrmont?

Can I Compare Our Love to Pyrmont?

Outside the central business district
a distinct and somewhat solitary, soaring promontory
surrounded by deep, dark waters
the sharks unseen though undoubtedly there
many of our favourite features are viewed from without,
their windows boarded, weed-overgrown,
entrance forbidden to those most desirous and desiring of ingress, congress.

We have visited together,
walking the busy thoroughfares, the lonely back lanes
daytime trucks rumble, by night bats screech
and each alone has climbed the headland
gazed over the abodes of four million
intent on one alone, wishing you were here.

I visit and go, and return -
it's still here.

Day or night,
the steaming stinking summer,
the wet and windswept winter -
it changes, though it remains,
not the same - agreed -
though, through the years, itself,
undeniable, beautiful, historic, human.

This is where we walked, kissed, laughed, wept.
Neglected, battered, overbuilt,
it stays
You can go there any time you like
It's not that far away.

Saturday, 17 August 2013

The Western Line

Up and down all the time
I spend my time on the Western Line
counting sheep and kangaroos
contemplating all the views
on the Western Line