Sunday, March 19

A POEM BY ANNABEL CRABBE

i've shared it on Facebook as well but have copied it here so I can read it when I am feeling in need of inspiration.

The Man from Wentworth fretted in his lofty gilded cage.
A prisoner he'd been for weeks on end.
Below him his oppressors fizzed with mighty, vengeful rage
(An awkward scene, since they were all his friends):

"Ban gay marriage! Let us speak…" (the mob bayed from below)
"…without the cruel restraints of 18C!"
"Take a stand! Avenge Bill Leak!" The skies were all aglow,
The pyres of their fury plain to see.

Among them, leading loudest with the epithets and jeers
And demands for a conservative agenda
Was Tony of the North Shore, his legendary ears
Pricked for signs of imminent surrender.

The Man from Wentworth mused: How did this bloke, so long-deposed
Yet boast such a degree of moral clout?
The Man, alas, was only to be further discomposed
When his sole surviving lightbulb sputtered out.

In darkness, then, it came to him: The answer, low and sweet.
The beauty of it set his heart a-quiver.
"I'll writhe no more upon this hook of treacherous deceit.
Hot damn! I'll be the Man From Snowy River!"

"We'll build a vast extension to the Snowy Mountains Scheme!
(Constructed back when Grandpa was a pup)
It's expensive and renewable, so: Perfect for the Greens!
And for the Nats. They love to dig stuff up!"

And as for YOU" (and here he threw a glance at his oppressors)
"I hope that this at last begins to leaven
(Or countervails, exonerates, or otherwise redresses)
The curse of that old deal I did with Kevin."

"There's nothing here that looks or smells or sounds like "carbon price".
There's nothing here to upset Andrew Bolt.
We'll build a dam. Yes, that's our plan; what makes it extra nice
Is that you can explain it to a dolt."

"No more sinking feeling at the gathering of dusk!
No more talk of nuclear solutions!
No more dirty coal or panicked calls to Elon Musk,
We're gonna have a power revolution!"

"Hey Shorten! I can see your pledge on workers' penalty rates!
I see you, getting all sincere and sniffly.
But check out these construction jobs for all your whining mates!
Yep: Cop this, champ. I'm back. AND I'M BEN CHIFLEY!"

The Man had always been a fan of valves and pumps and dams.
Of water tables, aqueducts and bores.
His standup desk was soon inch-deep in complicated plans
Designed to win across-the-board applause.

He laboured through the night, a willing conscript to the task
Delighted at the thought of being free.
Toward the dawn he took, perhaps, the smallest break; to ask
Lucy for a cup of herbal tea.

The Man From Snowy River then clapped on his Driza-Bone
His hat and his elastic sided boots.
He summoned his advisers via WhatsApp, text and phone.
"We need a press announcement, friends! When suits?"

His acolytes came running; at his rustic foot they kneeled.
They ventured their advice to him when pressed.
"Newspoll's Tuesday, so that means the pollster's in the field
On Thursday: Make it Thursday. Thursday's best."