When the policemen were older
the postmen had whistles
and the Queen was a slip of a girl
when the South Pole was colder
and Ming had his Thistle
and Mum wore a twinset and pearls
when the menace was red
and the peril was yellow
and the potties all sucked up to Ike
then you did what Dad said
liked your music mellow
and you had to earn your first bike.

Who’d ever have thought
fifty years down the track
that I’d settle at Kirribilli
in a house I never bought
with views front and back
as the President’s favourite Billie?
I’ll finish what I started
I cannot tell a lie
I’ve chopped down no cherry-tree
it’s the law of the market
that old forests die
but I will chop the ABC!

John Carey

@auth poem

From Green Left Weekly, January 19, 2005.
Visit the Green Left Weekly home page.

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