Coral Hull: Poetry: Broken Land: 5 Days In Bre: Day Three/ IX. Narran Lake Conversations/ 2. Breaking Down In The Desert

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: BROKEN LAND: 5 DAYS IN BRE
Day Three

IX. NARRAN LAKE CONVERSATIONS

2. Breaking Down In The Desert

"Oh, we were
breakin' down in the desert.
In the land of the dead road kill
& the big chested dogs.
There's some poetry in a lizard out there somewhere,
but no-one's sayin' nothin.'
They're all bastards in Brewarrina.
Like Kevin's dog, 'e's finished.
Too tired ter pick up a tennis ball.
But 'e's a good dawg
'e downe hurt' cha
'e only bring da blud.
I hate the lot of 'em.
Don't write that down
they'll burn us out.
Hear that?
That's dirt in the petrol tank again.
Hope
the fucken thing doesn't break down.
Ya know
breakin' down's a funny thing.
It doesn't really hit ya at first.
At first
ya feel safe.
'cause ya know the land
or ya think ya know it.
Even with not much water
in the back,
or a torch, blanket, warm coat,
an apple, sandwich, some extra petrol.
A dunnie roll,
an axe, a shovel.
If ya break down
on sunset without this gear
you'll be very sorry later.
Even if ya got the gear, the boredom 'ill kill ya.
Ya need a beer out 'ere
every so often. Preferably more often
than so.
That yellow introduced stuff growin' over there,
I dunno what that is.
It goes right through cattle.
Kills 'em.
Sends the meat off.
Grows down the 4 mile, grows fucken anywhere.
Grow up ya nose if ya let it."

    

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