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Australia Day, unfortunately

It’s Australia Day and Dorothy Fustaigne, Western Plains very own singing mortician, has submitted this wonderful poem to cheer us all up.

My Australia Day

I hate this sunburnt country
This land that’s girt by sea
So full of mortal dangers to
A sheila just like me

A crocodile or shark maybe
A snake in the long grass
Or get bitten by a spider in
The outside lavatory

A homicide, murder most foul
A shooting accidental
Or much much worse than all of these
A cancer of the bowel

I contemplate the wide blue skies
The heavens and the stars
Where could they all have come from?
Those pestilential flies!

A redback or a stinger
Or slip in to a coma
When what you thought was just a mole
Becomes a melanoma

You might take a flight with Qantas
To remote exotic places
By the time you get to Woop Woop
You’ll have Deep Deep vein thrombosis

Slow or quick it is forever
A life there is no cure for
I hope I don’t get carried away
By footy finals fever

You know I might end up in a home
For palliative care
With all my fellow sufferers
Of tall poppy syndrome

It takes a lot of courage
As through the heat I trudge
I’m gunnado a kiwi off
Of Sydney Harbour Brudge

Maybe I won’t finish it
Cheer up now, that’s the spirit!
Howzabout a little cocktail
Paracetemol and Glen Livet?

I don’t think I can stick it
My mind’s made up to end it
I going to turn on Channel Nine
And overdose on cricket.

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