Drive Through
By Ben Michell
for 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.