I leave pretty pictures for others to paint.
Don't get me wrong,
nothing delights me more,
than to lie with a girl on a rock,
watching a stream tumble
over cool granite,
while kookaburras swell
the cathedral gums above.
Yet, in my Windmill times, I like to delve
more darkly
sucking on sour rather than sweet.
Turning to Gleeson,
not frolicking with McCubbin.
Looking for spiders
under the dunny seat!
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