Ben Michell |
|
drive throughfor chris gadsby
nice town that one, real nice, to drive through. can yer even remember it’s name? west wyalong mighta been it.
and the birds: cockatoos galahs pigeons parrots birds of all descriptions. the most torturous thing was they flew straight for the flaming windscreen. ‘cause that was wheat country where the trucks leave what birds eat all over the road when they drive through with romance on their minds & their hands in their laps remembering that girl the one with potential, that girl whose boyfriend comes home grunting every night: “we just been piggin’ doll” remembering never having the courage to say: “don’t get stuck with that bloke, he wont do anything withya.” just drive through, get pissed & leave a hole you can’t fill with his pile of empty tinnies. |
|