An Aussie Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas
But where was the snow?
For this Yuletide story
To Australia we’ll go!

Up north they’ve got reindeer
To pull Santa’s sleigh.
Down south things are different.
But how? I hear you say.

The sleigh’s pulled by wattles
And other native plants.
And instead of presents,
It carries bags of ants.aussiexmas001Saint Nick has a list
Of who’s naughty and nice.
And in rural Australia,
Who’s hepped up on ice.

You won’t see many chimneys
In Hobart or Brisbane,
So jolly Father Christmas
Climbs on down the fan.

The blades spin so quickly,
They cut him up good.
‘Til soon there’s a shower
Of festive red blood.

We feed it to the Christmas tree
Which gives you quite a shock.
I bet you weren’t expecting
To see a full-size croc!

xmascroc.pngThe crocodile’s our Christmas God.
He brings us gifts and joy
And asks for nothing but a taste
Of blood and girls and boys.

Kill all the non-believers.
Destroy their Christmas cake.
You must feed them to crocodile
The cruel legged snake.

Wombat! Beach! Et cetera!
And other Aussie things!
Forget the baby Jesus,
The funnel-web’s our king.

xmas spider.png

So keep your nog and holly
And snow that falls for miles.
Make mine an Aussie Christmas
ALL HAIL THE CROCODILE

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A Weekend Away

The following poems are inspired by The Forward Book of Poetry 2014and a recent holiday for one in Katoomba

Charlatan St John

every
morning
I
take

two totemic pills
two thousand milligrams of quackery apiece
to soothe
my hands that flap like landed fish
or damaged moths
and to dampen down the buzz of regrets
that swarm and multiply inside the hollow of my head

when you loved me
it was easy to forget
that it’s the pills which made me strong

Lady Carrington Lookout

sandstone bearded with ancient trees
turned blue by distance and the eucalypt haze
that cascade down into a tumbled quilt
scratched by the sandy scars of landslips

I could jump from here and fall forever

if it wasn’t for the endless disgorge
of sunburnt Europeans
who jabber their way
to the end of the point
and pose for photos to prove
that they’ve been here
against the backdrop of the eucalyptus haze

When not remembering that he actually bloody loves poetry, Patrick Magee is a village in the administrative district of Gmina Nurzec-Stacja, within Siemiatycze County, Podlaskie Voivodeship, in north-eastern Poland. You can follow him on Twitter, like him on Facebook or buy his novel As Baile: A Story.