posted on December 3, 2008 at 7:22 pm

i dont want to alarm you
but i’m plummeting thru your hands
there i go
tho you do gasp n grasp
you can never seem to get a hold
i live on september the thirteenth island
its right between easter island n christmas island
fact : the sudden sunlight circulates in the seaspray
the sea spray that i see that i say is spray is missed
the sand that i planned to demand in my hand is beyond
understanding
god says every grain of sand is numbered
“hi,
if youre holding this grain of sand
it belongs to s. kilbey
some romantic beach shack
13th of september island
this grain of sand is # 57378885643
a reward will be paid for its return”
my island home
my island home
my island home
is a’waiting for me
beach comber come home now
come in from the heat
yeah i had a man friday once
boy thursday i called him
gee its thursday today
well waddiya know
i had to let him go
every damn thing on the island…
1st the volcano
2nd the crocs
3 rd the sharks
in equal 3rd the snakes
5th the spiders
6 th jellyfish
etc
he had a problem with everything you know
and i dont take to whiners or shirkers
oh yeah he could speak a crude form of english :
he was educated at lyneham high, after all
a kind of ex-strange student
a very impudent student if i may say so
after he bullied me all the way thru a double metalwork period
i still was stupid enuff to hire him tire him then fire him
jesus lyneham high
they said 16 per cent of canberras pregnancies were from lyneham high
or was that the amount of urine in dickson pool
or was that the number who ended up in jail
which we sometimes spell gaol
which suggests how very random n ridiculous things are
i did a little island-ology at school
which is lucky
cos i know how to light a cigarette
or open a bottle of beer with my former teeth
my grass skirt had weeds which hurt my legs
we had a little island set up inside a classroom
we’d dress up like the black n white minstrels
n chuck connors n shake spears
n we’d row out to the shimmering sea
and net monsters between our canoe
can you?
i doubt it …..
miss waddlespoon our teacher kept me back
n showed me
what happened when the white hot lava
hit the warm pink sea
i hid in her caves
she stood on my promontory
we stripped back the jungle around the lagoon
island-ology was looking good for me
later the deputy head
miss mountjoy
chose me to represent our school in terraforming
she took great interest in my use of basalt
my obsidian swirls were the talk of lyneham
oh how i loved my bauxite shavings
how they smiled on my molten core
but thats the real world
and here….
just a small dessert island with only 2 airports
september the 13th island
just a dot on the map of love
just a tiny
i wake in the morning
the salty air blowing round my beard
the parrots screeching in the canopy
pilate talking in the cockpit
the survivors stum-ball around in their pear-o-chutes
oh look maude…its steve kilbey
yes! welcome to my island
some of you may never go home again
(ooh i hope not…!)
please dont eat the coconuts with SK engravied on them
please dont feed the monkeys
or monkey with the feed
please avoid the mountain trail after 5 pm
as it will be closed for ambushes
please take your room key with you if you go swimming
its good for jabbing in the sharks n sea-snakes eyes
bathe near chubby children…the crocs prefer em
no fertility dancing or appeasing the sun god after 11 pm
all castaways should be out of huts by 11 pm
no sunburn no blisters no service
dont wee in our rockpools
we dont put winkles down your toilet
dont vandalise our volcano
the collection of fiery ash is strictly forbitten
caution : human sacrifice next ten miles
watch out for falling cannibals!
i am a suave olde island meister
the sun n sin king
sinking

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