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Gazzillions of particles hang in the air
which I may not select to respire.
I’m obliged to suck-in every dust-mote and stink-bomb
regardless of what I desire.

“Where on earth has that been?” I think to myself
as some toxin slides down past my throat.
I can’t block its path ‘cos it’s well on its way
tho’ my breathing continues, I note.

Whiffy-dump-trucks and smelly-sludge-ponds…
…my nose feeds my lungs an array
of pre-used concoctions of various taints
which waft through my nostrils all day.

I believe, by the seaside, the air’s full of ozone
which is healthful and cleansing, they say.
But my blood’s running thick with unwholesome deposits
which fraternize – in their own way.



How To Kill Butterflies

ButterflyFlower 2Butterfly

Sweet, lovely butterfly,
blessed in many ways,
flitting through my flowers
I’ve been stalking you for days

…through my bedroom window
from behind a fine mesh screen.
I can’t go in the garden
to enjoy the things you’ve seen.

I’m allergic to the stingy-things,
to bumble-bees and such.
The mozzies and the horse-flies
enjoy my blood too much.

Sandflies found my scalp, one day
and sucked my brains to death.
I counted up the bites
until I reached the twenty-eth.

I wish I’d had some DDT
to teach those pests a lesson.
One master-blast would do the job
and stop those insects messin’.

But I have to use Pyrethrum
‘cos it’s kinder to the nose.
It kills the bugs off gently
…so the information goes.

So bye-bye busy bee
and ta-ta nasty fly,
and – sorry – Mr Butterfly,
you also have to die.




Boab Tree

If I were a bona-fide greenie

there’d be heaps of things I couldn’t do.

I wouldn’t be lit-up at midnight

typing these poems for you

   (…for a start!)

I’d be out there hugging a tree-trunk

in the dark, in the rain, in a field.

The hypocrisies of wannabe greenies

are embarrassing – once they’re revealed.

(I mean…)

Who would burn off barrels of diesel

gadding about the terrain?

Or pollute the upper ionosphere

jetting about in a plane?


Who’d sit at a desk well past midnight

and tweet messages all afternoon?

Who’d hang on a phone ‘cos it’s running red hot

in their own locked-in-tight climate zone?


Saving the planet ain’t easy,

(though it does make one seem very nice!)

But with modern-day games and distractions,

it requires too much self-sacrifice!



Flower spray

We drove 40 kilometres

and didn’t see one cow.

We live in a big city

which has no farmlands now.

It’s an urbanized conglomerate

to such a marked degree

no-one knows that apples

grow and ripen on a tree.

Kids believe that milk

is manufactured in the fridge.

Coffee comes in golden pods

to brew one bev-er-age.

Peas start in the freezer

and reach the dinner-plate

via buttons on a microwave

at quite a rapid rate.

Pristine food abounds

that never smells of dirt.

If we take it all for granted

then we’ll get our just dessert.