Hmmmm very quiet out there sarge

[Heather]

There's Neville, lurking in the wings. He can always smell yoghurt and he's got a whiff of a revolution!

Maureen it was a poem I had written some time back but I added an extra line just for Marty!

[Heather]

Zondrae! Ouch! Maybe another form of revolution then?

[william williams]

don't take em off mate an change them. Scrub them in the shower jock an socks an singlet too your trousers smell like a horse blanket so dont worry change them next week unless of coarse *** and always stand up wind

bill the bushman

[Neville Briggs]

G'day Marty. Everyone should know about Ern Malley. One of the great literary hoaxes of Australian poetry.

You can find it on Wikipedia. Briefly, two Australian Arrmy Officers sent samples of supposed free verse to a contemporary avant garde literary journal run by Max Harris. The free verse was said to be done by an Ern Malley, a deceased war veteran. the two officers, Harold Stewart and James McAuley had put the poems together from nonsense phrases and sentences taken from army manuals and bits of old books. Max Harris was taken in and thought he had discovered a hitherto unknown poetic genius. He put out a special edition of his journal, Angry Penguins, devoted to the poems of the " genius " Ern Malley and Sydney Nolan did illustrations for it.
Ern Malley never existed and the " free verse " was just gibberish.

When the hoax was revealed , old Max Harris was severely humiliated.

[Heather]

Neville that is a fantastic tale. I once told a school librarian my name was Enid Blyton and she couldn't find my library card! So, so hard to keep a straight face!

Marty I find it really hard to write anything free verse. My mind must be too ordered! Note to self: Let your hair down girl!

[Neville Briggs]

You naughty girl Heather. A bloke once had a librarian searching fruitlessly for a book by Henry Gibson. The man had asked for a book by the Norwegian author (of Peer Gynt), Henrik Ibsen.

[william williams]

hey marty my belly dances every time I laugh and heather, don't drink the pub dry

bill the old b

[Heather]

I am a naughty (but nice) girl Neville. I guess that's why I like it here so much!

Must remember to pack the coin skirt Marty!

[Heather]

Who's pushing in now Marty? Huh, huh!

Don't know about you lot but I'm a night-owl poet. I reckon it's obscene to have poets getting up for breakfast. Should be afternoons or better still, evenings around a camp fire.

[Heather]

I hope she kicks you up the behind for calling her wifey! If not I'll do it for her!