Impossible Dreams
Come to Australia she said lightly
You’ll love the beaches
So I dove into her poetry
To see what aussie land was like
Such bodacious formality
Such outrageously beautiful prose
The majesty of it all
All those masked contented feelings
Family familiar winking at the night
All pounding beneath the polished
Veneer of armored gentility
Sweet slow afternoon teas
Late morning crumpets and marmalade
Alas I cannot lass though dearly
Would I love to try.
Spin me tales of twisted eucalyptae
Brown burnt grass and men
Winds and sandy gritty rutted roads
And the sight of gulls awing along the bay
Is New South Wales a mirror of the Old?
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