Lucky we got our walk in easy I say to my best pal
Podge, who grins slyly querying whether the piece
of chocolate cake I’m eating is to be shared; mate,
I protest, your dog-bowl, alright, plate’s still got the
remains of last night’s chicken clunkers, with three
necks left of six - and you’re mooching on me; gee
if the clothesline Kookaburras see what you’re into
leaving wastefully uneaten they’ll invade & pillage
Besides its raining, first bit of pleasant precipitation
in six weeks, by my count - & there they are, sitting
out in it as if you are a disgraceful object of derision
they intend bringing t’ rights; Okay Podge cries - so
save me then - toss ‘em a bit of y’ cake so I can try
and snag that minced meat you’re feeding ‘em
© 26 April 2016, I. D. Carswell
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