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Great Writing - Home > Poetry > Death of a great Aussie idler
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Poetry
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| Death of a great Aussie idler | |
| By idlemusings | ||||
| 21 June 2005 | ||||
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A second posting of the first poem I ever wrote. It was for a mate who had to give up his easy live once he had kids. ODE (OLD?) TO STEVEThere was a young man named Steve For whom life was a tropical breeze He lay in his house And smoked on his couch While watching the sports at his ease
One day his wife said ‘Oh Hon' ‘In me you have placed a wee bun' ‘Your idling days are over' ‘Me and child you must keep in clover' ‘No more playing for you in the sun'
Steve was distraught What fresh hell had he wrought His friends were aware That with his penis down there It was in trouble that he would be caught
The trouble was not the wife But his laid-back and relaxing life The call to work came today And poor Steve must obey To avoid dilemma, discord and strife
Many jobs they were tried Fish processed skin and hide But wee Cassie she grew And more money was due ‘A real job now Steve' he sighed
Into new clothes he was bent And to the office he went A bum he had been Now civil servant extreme A genuine government gent
A quickie that day Now fatherhood there to stay No more fun days at the beach And the remote control out of reach Never again on the couch him to lay
The sports go unwatched The bedposts un-notched An eight-hour workday And no time to play A sad end for a life so debauched
So tell not tales of woe Of suffering so long ago They know not of torment Who have not heard the lament Of Steve, who lives down-below
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