Friday, February 1, 2008


HE WAS BORN YESTERDAY, he wants to recite this poem.


Inseperable I feels, an enigma if you will, Woolloomooloo the locale half way up the hill.
112 Palmer Street to be correct, Grand Ma’s place of liven’.

Down the back the dunny graced by choko vine, it was our place of respite, some say by God was given’.

Complete with daily news, albeit torn asunder, one went to meditate and move the world and empty old Gusunder.

Toilet humour is not my scene, but this is true grit my friends, the place to go was down the back, the Dunny relieved the bends.

All up and down the back lane the dunney stood at guard, chokos hid these pill boxes, this was their camouflage

Amazing how cool it was, great place to lose some time, I recon that it all comes down to the lush green choko vine.

I do a lot of movement, the XPT from Cas-sino to Wyong I am bound. You’ll find dunnys by the dozen, along the track there found.

OH how I wish sometimes to go back and use my Grand Ma’s dunny. The pain I feels on this train, at this time, is not so really funny.

Well this concludes my little yarn about the national source of humour, if people think the dunney’s over then folks that’s just a rumour

I’ve been to Boonoke, Bundamar and Woolloomooloo travllin’ all the time, and rymin’ gives me joy, but what goes with Woolloomooloo, except dunney and the choko vine, and the paper boy.

I’ve tried to keep you occupied it’s really time to go, I hope you enjoyed the time. But folks don’t be mislead, history lives in all of us there will always be a DUNNY AND A LUSH GREEN CHOKO VINE.

John Farley 2008.

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