The tussocks
Well into the tussocks I interrupted ducks
One flightless teenager galloped across the water
And then an explosion of babies
And a mother who did the broken wing trick about a chain away
While I tipped an old cassoulet out for the fish
The rain dug itself in this afternoon
My smoker smouldering some McCubbin into a shin of beef
While ibis rose from the bottom vineyard
To perch on trellis posts in prehistoric rows
And Peter fed his horses as if everything was normal
Philip White
The painting - VIOLET AND GOLD (1911) - is by Fred McCubbin, 1855-1917. One of the artist's Mount Macedon works, it is a recent acquisition of the collection of the National Gallery Of Australia. The poem was written back in the winter, when it felt like a lot of things were about to go wrong in the cosmos.
1 comment:
You really are a silly old usless drunkard decrepid waste f space posing as a poet, which you are not...you are non of the things you claim to be you silly imposter.
Monnie was right to leave you, you are a waste of O2, eeking out a poitless and really quite meaningless existance in the near gutters of Adelaide.
Its so sad what you ended up being.
http://www.nt.gov.au/lant/pub/Index%207th%20Assembly%20Minutes.pdf
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