Wednesday, September 14, 2016

A small poem in Honour of Merv Lilley's passing at 96


Merv’s riding down
for his cremation. He wouldn’t
miss it for all the sugar cane
in Queensland. All the family
will be there and people
he only half recognises. Will
the undertaker ladies have
a hitching rail and safe storage
for his saddle-bags? They’re new,
you know. They were on
Merv’s last shopping list: 'I need
pack saddle with a couple of splitbags –
also a .22 rifle to shoot whatever...'
All the cane fires of Queensland
couldn’t burn Merv’s rage out
but now all his energy goes
up in smoke in one last blaze.

Don’t call the wallopers or

the fireys. Merv’s just going out

in one last blaze of glory.

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