(In the Icelandic winter, sunlight is in short supply, electricity on the other hand is relatively cheap and plentiful. Huge glass-houses where fresh vegetables are grown, can be seen outside of the towns – at night they glow like party tents).
Bunyip’s Jaw Bone 🙂
I’d never ‘ad a woman before.
‘mazin’ I know.
What with me bein’,
Nigh on two hundred years.
The local girls,
I’d never get the better of.
They’s way to alert;
spirichul or sumthin’.
They see me coming
from a lifetime away.
Ain’t no chance o’ tucker,
where they’s concerned.
But these new ones.
They seems oddly fair.
’S like they’s already ghosts,
Or sumthin like.
But I’m Bunyip!
That don’ scare me.
I sees only a feed,
Wrapped in pale covers.
Won’t take more’n a moment
To grab one
And spirit ‘er off.
To enjoy at me leisure.
Those pale blokes,
They worry me a bit tho’.
They’s bigger’n locals,
And angrier some ‘ow.
They’ve got no respect,
For a legend like me.
No respect for much,
Seems to be.
This ‘eres mine is all;
And all that’s innit.
Ask them local boys;
It’s me what’s to be feared.
But I’ll not rush.
Looks like they’s settlin’ in.
I’ll ‘ave plenty o’chances.
Once they thinks it’s all theirs.
(The Bunyip is said to be a mythical creature. He inhabits the countryside of Australia. He is known to take young children and girls for food and pleasure. The Original inhabitants of Australia know all about him and are careful with the bush and so, keep the bunyip happy – us new settlers, we’re a different story)
Hew Years Eve, Iceland
 | Mabel Kwong on Loss |
 | Nelkumi on Loss |
| Mabel Kwong on Prostate |
 | Mithai Mumblezz on Vale |
| Mithai Mumblezz on And then I was Grey |
Poetry is my aeroplane 