Posts Tagged ‘bush’

kookaburra

So tell me about yourself

Are you feeling gender confused?

Do my pontifications encode the distance between thought and expression?

Number your wallowing senses dispassionately

Take a deep breath and extol effervescent notions over crystalline mountains

Fester deep in the marrow of your depravity

Long for rapture with a socially compatible life partner

Frenzy yourself to implosion with stigmata on your hands

Prance and pose in Christ-like configurations

How shall I know thee?

Hiding in the bush talking to kookaburras?

Looking for a hollow faraway tree to hide in?

Curled up in a ball sucking your thumb like an infant?

I just don’t understand

Why you grumble and mumble and shake your legs

Whirling and gibbering in intricate motion

Like a spinning gibbon

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Swagman_(2715952698)

I was walking alone through red dirt in the vast Kimberley region of Western Australia
The sun beat down on me as if softening me up for death with a meat hammer
I was so thirsty that my tongue was beginning to stick to the top of my mouth
I was worried as I had not seen a road for ages, and was wandering in spirals
Suddenly he stepped out from behind a eucalyptus tree
He wore a long coat despite the heat, and various mugs and tools were tied to the coat
On his head a battered old hat
And his eyes were like burning blue coals
He smiled and said ‘Don’t be afraid- what are you doing out here?’
I told him I was lost and thirsty
He said- “I’ll show you how to find water’.
“You just look for a good tree then dig to the roots’
He dug down about 2 feet with a little spade he pulled out of a pocket in his coat
And there was water—we both drank
Then he grabbed a few rocks and set up a fireplace
He said- ‘Leave these rocks here for the next bloke, that’s the Swagman’s code’
He gathered together some twigs and rubbed two sticks together to start the fire
He tried to show me how to do it, but I couldn’t work out the trick
‘I didn’t like the city, so when I was eighteen I left for the bush, and I’ve been wandering around here for near fifty years’ he said
‘I’ll never regret it, the bush is in my blood’
‘The blackfellas taught me how to survive, amazing people- they’ve been doing this for fifty thousand years’
‘Some fellas come out here and have no idea because they don’t learn from the blackfellas. Those fellas die.’
He told me how to get back to the road then disappeared behind a tree.
Once again there was silence with an insect buzz
A real Swagman.

most-beatiful-women-08

The bush eats a woman and a maggot full of blood
Dead beaten body murdered for love
Eyes on the pus and the crack of the bone
Never will, ever will be so alone

Dead to the world and dead to all thought
Dead to the oceans of pain that she felt
Now she is empty but also free
Nothing but a vapour on the menacing sea

The bush eats a woman and a maggot full of blood
Ready for, ready for, horny for love
Dead broken bodies on a moribund street
Pain for salvation so slutty you must eat

Heads shaped so holy to scrape against God
Harridan half-steps in search of being odd
Half eaten monsters lurk inside your brain
It can never, it can never, it can never be the same

Sylvia, Anne, rot with me now
So the body tells the body it is dying somehow
Rape me in the moonlight with penetrating bone
No I’ve never, no I’ve never felt so alone

yuppie

Twist my fistula you festering fuck-nosed dildo dangler
Consumer identikit corporate oppressive asshole
Your mother was a Walrus and your father stank of corruption
Suck on my sausage weasel and inhale the odour of dead dogs
I know you fisted the ass of the ship of state
I know you insinuate yourself into myriad high-level machinations
I know you are Illuminati and Elders of Zion
I know you are a well-spring of malignant evil
Oozing out like an oil spill on pristine reef

Look at yourself in your Gucci suit and strangulating pedestrian tie
With your ozone flavoured brain and money funnel fists
With your perverted knees and mouth full of fleas
With your kleptomaniac dagger-fingers and leprous gaping grin
With your banana boat ears and broken piano teeth
With your parasitic mouth and gangrenous temperament

In your inner eye a flicker-show of death, pain and cannibalistic lust
In your reptile brain pyramid schemes and retail vacuum dreams
In your mind inside your mind an infinite regression of self-similar malevolent automatons
All strategizing domination and control of poor and destitute people
By counting stock prices and watching the Dow-Jones index
To plot ever more efficient and productive economic mind-matrices
To embody oppression in each tastefully chosen good and service
As a self-absorbing sponge soaking up last pennies of battlers

bushchemist2
The bush chemist has ripped me off and pulverized my faith in human nature
I took him into my home and gave him a place to stay
I fed him a multitude of meals
He’s stolen my piggies, my computer and my phone
He cut my phone cable so I couldn’t call the police
His evil is a blunt instrument of suppurating psychosis
I bet he’s stuck the computer and the phone up his arm with no guilty thoughts
Where are my wonderful cuddly piggies?
Probably hungry and lonely hiding out in some blackfella house
Perversity and malice lurk in the human heart
The mangled barb wire that twists inside his cat-flap mind is the essence of speed psychosis
Wild pansexual delusions oscillate through his crazy brain and I have become the center of them
I go to his squat to try to persuade him to tell me where my piggies are
And he threatens me with a dirty hepatitus-ridden syringe
Look after the least of these my brothers but watch your back

bush
The sunlight bludgeons the earth till it squeezes out the edges,
Morning is breaking all over the ground like an incandescent egg.
The eucalyptus trees whisper softly in a slow murmuring breath of wind,
And the birds call each other with inscrutable sounds.
A kookaburra’s insane laugh booms through the land,
And the elusive fragrance of wattle is in the air.
Granite outcrops are silent sentinels, watching over the bush.
I sing the beauty of this land, its endless deserts, plains and mountains,
I sing the unique birds, animals and plants, their fecundity and claws.
Wide to the ends of space is the Bush,
So easy to be lost in.
A pin in an infinite haystack,
But in it is the heart of the nation.

chemistry
Bush Chemist
He’s gone now,
But what sticks in the mind most,
Is his preoccupation with finding
Ever more stupid ways to manufacture things to stick up his arm.
With prescription medicine, methylated spirits, baking soda and various other crap,
When he wasn’t sticking stuff
That he bought from someone else up his arm.
Amateur chemists and armchair experts abound in the drug world:
But it’s the first time I’ve heard that you separate the T H from the C when you’re making hash.
Or that a common antidepressant can readily be turned by chemical magic into speed.

When he sold me pot he quickly stole it back
He was always surrounded by a hurricane of little plastic bags
But he never seemed to sell much,
And I don’t think he will,
Unless someone has started buying bullshit.