The theme this week for Jon’s JVG Radio Method on 3RRR is “Beach“.
Ed Bates is accompanist this week.

Click to hear today’s poem… [audio:JVG_Poem20080921a.mp3] (file repaired)


Beach

In the rarefied air of childhood, nothing seemed out of reach
There were only two seasons, one was called football, the other simply called beach

Australian’s loved the outdoors and their beaches they loved the best
Which is just as well, given the fact we knew bugger all about the rest

The beach filled faster than a Dan Warner concert once the mercury started to rise
We’d complain about wind, too much or too little, the sand, the crowds and the flies

“Pig” Mills had a theory, as he usually did, each more absurd than the last
He claimed it was rooted in colonial times with links to our convict past

Shipped out to these shores against their will, imprisoned, deserted, alone
A land so harsh, surrounded by ocean, all the time dreaming of home

It became so engrained that even today subconsciously we still yearn
We gather on the beach to scan the horizon in the hope the boats will return

The Mills spent most of their lives on the beach, they’d head down regardless of weather
They sported more wrinkles than an elephant’s scrotum and skin the texture of leather

Like the Mills most Australian’s worshiped the sun and swore by its health giving powers
Smothered in oil wearing nothing but Speedos, we’d lie without moving for hours

Then go home as red as Mao Tse Tung’s undies, it was agony, even to crawl
Faces stretched tighter than a sumo wrestler’s jock strap, your skin felt ten sizes too small

You’d discover when you peeled off your bathers how much of the beach you’d brought back
Seaweed and shells and a truck load of sand wedged in your creases and crack

Sun give you cancer? Get on your bike — How could anything as natural cause hurt
Melanoma sounded like something delicious your Mum would whip up for desert

When you got burnt you’d just pop all the blisters and put up with a few days of pain
Wait till you peeled, scratch off the dead skin and start all over again

“Squirrel” Tyrrell always swam near the stormwater outlet though it smelt like stale parmesan
Thick as pea soup and it tasted like puke but it sure as hell gave you a tan

No-one had heard of e-coli — or other nasties to which we were exposed
To avoid getting sick we took stringent precautions, by that I mean we kept our mouths closed

“Pig” Mills is still tanned and looks pretty good, even after all of these years
He no longer wears glasses, they kept falling off since they amputated his ears

There’s the odd chunk missing and a few horny growths but they’re hidden under his clothes
He’s planning to be back on the beach by Christmas once they’ve fitted his prosthetic nose

Now there’s talk of building a beach on the Yarra, for the townies to flock when it’s hot
Maybe the money would be better spent taking care of the beaches we’ve got

© Copyright 2008 Ian Bland

2 comments on “Bland On Bland – Beach

  • Thanks for that James,

    I have reloaded the file and it seems to be OK now. Let me know if you have any further problems.

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