more picnics mean
more broken glass
it’s not me
or any of my
friends
we wouldn’t do that
who would
stare out to sea
and ask
if the rusty anchor’s still wedged
on the island
where waves attack
shipwreck litter
you’d be stuck
with a fine these days
for that
and I heard the sailors were
all unvaccinated
in 1870
selfish pricks, I wonder
was their captain schooled
by Opus Dei?
someone who
eats roast koala
for tea
picks his teeth
with the constitution
casts icy eyes over
the cash flow of
stamp duty to
developer, it’s only the poor
who choose to buy
on flood plains
my Hilux explains
I’m OK
burning finest quality
trees in aspic
4.2 litre diesel
smash the plastic
P plates
in the car park
by the boat ramp
someone will
tidy up
for you
black water laps
against the morning shore
faint tang of petrol
in the air
it’s safe for kids
so clean
because
our land is
rich and free
Photo: Claire Doble
clairevetica 