Dear Poetry lover,

Jules Henri

After last Sundays brilliantly poignant piece we decided after vigorous discussion to include this masterpiece from the other worst poet of all time. Thoophile Jules-Henri Marzials.  Allegedly, Marzials was a British composer, singer, and poet. He was also the author of a poetry collection, the wonderfully named The Gallery of Pigeons and Other Poems (1873). It is in The Gallery of Pigeons that we find Marzials’ masterpiece, if that is quite the word: the poem ‘A Tragedy’, which is more of a farce than a tragedy, although undoubtedly its claim to being a tragedy is rather tragic. Bit like Coronavirus and the leadership demonstrated to Australia at large by Twiggy Forrest, who entirely and  altruistically saved Australia’s relationship wth China. We dedicate this poem to Twiggy.

Here is the poem, reproduced in full:

A Tragedy

Death!

Plop.

The barges down in the river flop.

Flop, plop.

Above, beneath.

From the slimy branches the grey drips drop,

As they scraggle black on the thin grey sky,

Where the black cloud rack-hackles drizzle and fly

To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop

On the black scrag piles, where the loose cords plop,

As the raw wind whines in the thin tree-top.

Plop, plop.

And scudding by

The boatmen call out hoy! and hey!

All is running water and sky,

And my head shrieks – ‘Stop,’

And my heart shrieks – ‘Die.’

My thought is running out of my head;

My love is running out of my heart,

My soul runs after, and leaves me as dead,

For my life runs after to catch them – and fled

They all are every one! – and I stand, and start,

At the water that oozes up, plop and plop,

On the barges that flop

And dizzy me dead.

I might reel and drop.

Plop.

Dead.

And the shrill wind whines in the thin tree-top

Flop, plop.

John Betjeman gives Jules Henri the nod

A curse on him.

Ugh! yet I knew – I knew –

If a woman is false can a friend be true?

It was only a lie from beginning to end –

My Devil – My ‘Friend’

I had trusted the whole of my living to!

Ugh; and I knew!

Ugh!

So what do I care,

And my head is empty as air –

I can do,

I can dare,

(Plop, plop

The barges flop

Drip drop.)

I can dare! I can dare!

And let myself all run away with my head

And stop.

Drop.

Dead.

Plop, flop.

We dedicate this poem to Twiggy, who selflessly saved Australia, saved us from the mining tax, ensured that the nations riches were diverted to a few for safe keeping, bought an airline, and knows what’s good for aboriginal Australians, cos he’s an ordinary billionaire bloke who knows what ordinary Australians want.   God bless him.

Plop.

Dear reader, we take off where we left yesterday, with the conflation of our vexed relationship with Formosan Tea and the unforeseen consequences of falling foul of our economic partners. As you remember we begged the question:

Wotif we were so reliant on one single trading partner for everything we were truly stuffed?

Being a bit apprehensive how this hypothetical was unfolding we decided on the spot to jump the gun and speed off down to the local supermarket, determined to do only one thing,  buy Australian. And prove we could do it ALONE!

After an hour or two we came away with some tooth picks, a pencil sharpener, and some tea towels. We wanted to get tea bags, but all of the tea was Formosan, (even Lan Choo) and the other stuff (Tea from Ceylon)  had sold out. Seems like the public have gone toilet roll on anything that’s made from the “other China”.

Alexander Downer, What he doesn’t know about foreign policy and Fair-Play is nobody’s business.

The tea towels were made in Bangladesh, and the tooth picks from ‘responsibly harvested Indonesian rainforest’. The pencil sharpener, said, “Korea”. We looked at a map, and checked it as ‘OK’. Still, we realised if we didn’d buy anything from the angry “other China”, we’d be safe, provided we find a comfy cave to dwell in and didn’t need electricity, (they own it) lights, (they’re the sole manufacturers), or matches (we don’t make em anymore). We consoled ourselves we’d be right with kero, though the refinery is closed and we’re waiting for our order to arrive from Tennessee.

Matter of fact, we’d have to ditch the computer, the car, the washing machine,…… everything, and just rely on the ol Imperial. Though we’d be stuffed for ribbons. Which begged the question if we make this stand, who is the winner gonna be?

Surely us, cos we kept out integrity intact.

And we’ll be self sufficient.

Witness K

And stand on principal.

We asked witness K, and he reckons Australia is the full bottle on integrity, and why the Chinese wont co-operate on an open enquiry without any political agenda except, doing the right thing by our other big mate is beyond him. And he should know, he’s going down for principles, though we’re buggered if we know what he uses as a defense, cos that’s a state secret. And our state secrets, even the improsonment of citizens without open trial is ok, because we’re the good guys and play a straight bat in Cantonese.

East Timor turned down the Australian Governments offer of a new Coat of arms.

Alexander Downer told us himself; ‘You’ve gotta hold rogue states to task. Or otherwise they’ll run all over you’. he should know he organised the partnership between East Timor and Kellogs.

And at the end of the day, (funny it’s much easier getting into any of the unis these days, and the campuses seem empty)  as Mr Dutton said; ‘if you dont do the right thing by your mates trust suffers. And that buggers up the friendship;.

And he’d know cos he was a Queensland copper.

Nowadays he’s just a politician.