Let us leave then, you and I where the suburbs stretch out like pizza pie
and by the mall the women come and go
talking of woolworths and bi-lo
the maclaren prams that through the streets flow like a tedious argument
and lead us to the overwhelming question
of why it is they don’t relent
And as I think of teacups past
I part my hair and piss off fast
go looking for them at the beach – it’s
the singing mermaids, just out of reach.
By the corso, the women come and go
talking of woolworths and bi-lo
The water’s cool, the wind is free.
we’ve left the suburbs far behind
the lux-a-flex venetian blind
But i grow old and I grow old and wear my levis roughly rolled
Sit beneath a shady tree
inhale the breath of open sea and doubt the mermaids sing for me.
usual apols.
Emm
first published as a comment in gerard oosterman’s ABC Unleashed blog – In isolation we live, November 23 2009

Beutiful, Emmjay, and you too Gerard…
Let me think a little while and see if I can come up with a worthy contribution…
🙂
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Emm, I’ve just begun reading a book of short stories handed for free by Borders to all their customers: Ten Short Stories You Must Read This Year.
I’m only into the third little story so I don’t know how the rest will be but one of them (the second) is written by a Kathy Lette and your adaptation of the Love Song would fit perfectly into that story. Two sisters, one, endowed with a perfect body and looks is engaged to a lawyer with an equally perfect body and looks, the other (sister) not so well endowed and bitter with the world of the suburbs because the men in Sydney are “either married or gay or both” so she goes to the bush…
If you can get your hands on it you will be amused… though I’m sure the story could have been told even betterer… 🙂
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Brilliant Emm,.
Here one on the same subject but far more incomprehensible.
Here we live forty K’s out
wife and kids on permanent run
betwixt this and that
but growing somewhat stout
We MacMansion love so blind
on knees fiddle tweet and twitter
till days end with hubby
lonely ‘sound surround’ but still kind.
The lawn and bindies need attention
the summer’s chore we know
big quarter pounder, chicken nuggets
we live our lives but in detention.
In Isolation we live
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