- Fanfare for Welfare -
He is a wonderful curb-side recital.
I’d like to sit and record his
Proudly yelling.
The second verse of Waltzing Mathilda.
Great roaring of her name.
I’ve never learnt the words.
Think he found a sheet out a kid’s music book. Maybe someslip of Australia Day fanfare,
Crunched ‘tween boot and pave
Up to flattened out by hand.
The spite of voice, in a public space;
Trembles with a threatnin’.
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Wishing his mum was in the crowd.
Someone to drive us home.
Squirt just enough dish detergent in the tub,
For bubbles.
Mum never stop him from playing flood either. Just keep thedirty towels in the basket a bit longer than most.
Handouts, lollies before bed.
Scratchy scalp,
Passing suit thinks he’s got nits.
So we’ll wrap that moused up head in cling wrap before thesandwiches.
For lunch today.
-
He been spoilt, they say
In those Facebook comment sections.
His lot are all the same.
Dad spoils him, no responsibilities.
The man of the house, He has plenty to do.
The lawns not been mowed in a bit but by god,
It looks green from a passing car.
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Katie found a dead magpie in the pool last week.
Stuck in that little filter alcove.
Dad was too busy sorting through junk emails.
‘Sides it’s too hot to swim.
You’ll burn,
You always burn quick.
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Sort of left it in there.
The white water coursing through its black coat.
Chlorine bleaching
Bit by bit.
Just like grandad said it would.
Won’t swoop like it did, after removed its nest.
All's left is that sad grey of bone and that man yelling.