Buahrangers Revetment: Poety and Stories by Vietnam Veteran, Anthony W. Pahl and friends

Bushranger's Revetment - Poetry and Stories by Vietnam Veteran, Anthony W. (Bushranger) Pahl and friends

Jacky ‘n’ ‘is fam’ly lived in an ‘ut jus’ out ’a town
It woz made a bits a timba an’ rusty corrugated iron
Th’ floor woz made a ‘ard packed dirt wif no fernitcha at orl
There woz’n any winders and a ’eshon bag hung on th’ door.

Ole blankits an’ some kapok mats woz laid down on th’ floor
Tho’ nowun eva slept in there (it woz used more jus’ ta store)
Th’ only time they’d go inside’s when it blew a bluddy gale
‘Coz, fer the abbos, bein’ inside woz th’ same ‘s bein’ in bluddy jail.

A cookin’ fire woz always kept a lit jus’ outside th’ door
An’ firewood woz only got when they need’d a bit more
Th’ blokes sat around’ th’ fire talking ‘bout th’ huntin’ fer th’ day
‘N’ the wimin ‘ardly sed a word, ‘n’ th’ kids jus’ ran ‘n’ play’d.

I neva woz uncumeferble when Jacky took me t’ ‘is ‘ome
‘N’ of’en times I’d stay th’ night ’sted o’ goin’ ‘ome alone.
Jacky’s dad, an elder, would chant some dreamtime lore
An’ Jacky’s bruver, e’d esplain so we cood lern s’m more

Sumtimes Jacky’d cum ‘ome wiv me so he cood stay ‘n’ play
Me bruvver an’ two sisters liked Jack, ‘n’ me Nanna sed OK
Me ole man woz neva all that keen, but Jacky woz a kid
Yu’d neva b’lieve th’ things th’t Jacky ‘n’ me ‘n’ Alan did.

But th’ thin’ th’t I r’member bes’ ov orl, woz th’ first time Jacky saw
A cast iron baff tub in the ‘ouse and a carpet on th’ floor
An’ a dog ’n’ bone ‘ung on th’ wall ‘n’ rung while ‘e woz there
We woz walkin’ up the hallway ‘n’ it giv ‘im a rite ole scare,

‘E ran like ev’ry evil spirit from ‘ell woz afta ‘im
But wen I fin’ly cort him ‘iding in the shed behin’ a bin
I tole ‘im what it woz but he neva b’leeved a bluddy word
Ev’n wen I tole ‘im, woz jus th’ phone bell ‘e ’ad ‘eard.

Still, Jacky offen came t’ visit ‘n we wou’d always play out side
Nan ‘n’ Pa had a a cupla acres, a lotta scrub so we coo’d ‘ide
We’d raid the maggy ‘n’ cocky eggs ‘n’ eat ‘em as they were
But from th’ day Jacky ‘eard th’ phone, ‘e neva stepped inside our door.

©Anthony W. Pahl
27 February 2002

Page created: Thursday, 09 May 2002


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