its all gone wrong
terribly terribly wrong
who mixed it all up like this
and why?
bill nelsons column
the avenue of the americas
models of de havilland bombers
searching throughout sydney and melbourne
dad pulls over
we always get lost in this spot
scuse me….? my mum calls out
i’m always embarrassed by her “scuse me..?” voice
some old bloke comes over
we’re tryin’ to find moorabin says my mum
oh ha ha ha
the bloke scratches his head
looks wildly around in every cardinal direction
moorabin he says and guffaws
as if we just asked him the way to pluto
moorabin…he repeats again
my dad gives my mum a map to give the guy
bignell road ? my dad says
the bloke starts his instructions
3 roads down bear right
take the second to your left…no thats right
no it IS left, thats right
and when you hit erskine avenue
turn around n around n around
we drive off
i was bullying russell in the back seat
the radio was blasting ma belle ami by the tee set
my mum hadnt listened…she thought dad was listening
dad hadnt listened ….he thought mum was listening
we’re going round in circles! ….he suddenly exclaims
bloody australians! he fumes and lights another cigarette
small sparks and great gusts of filthy smoke
come flying in the back
but we hardly even notice
we assume its a hazard of driving
all that fuckin’ cig smoke
in winter its worse
dad n uncle dennis smoking up a storm
no one cracks the window
you try n hold yer breath
united we stand by the brotherhood of man comes on
theres no where else that i’d rather be than with you, my love
why dont you drive killer
peter koppes thrusts the wheel into my hands
no not melbourne boys
you know i always get lost in melbourne, boys
im driving this ford ltd
gee its got a great cassette player
we’re listening to ploogys dub reggae compilation
everybodys stoned and or asleep
im driving round n round in circles
i thought these guys would like me
cos i wrote all those songs
but its lonely at the top
and i feel always slightly ostracized
so i drive down tree lined streets in the autumn rain
the players snore
and their guitars bounce around in the boot
the night comes down
and we arrive in east bentleigh
ooh look theres uncle cyril and auntie eve
and lenny
oh lenny makes everybody laugh
my mum n dad really like lenny
the accusation hangs in my head
why couldnt i have been like lenny
hes so nice even i dont hate him cos hes nice
and hes nice to me even tho hes a bit older
and he takes me n paul barber with him
when he goes swimming or ten pin bowling
and hes always got some girlfriends and hot chips
or something groovy always happens here
in melbourne
all those blond brick houses
street after street after street
i feel enclosed by warmth and safety
like listening to an old elvis record
one night while im painting “the vegetalista”
suddenly the modern world recedes
a lovely hazy 1950s hollywood fills me room
the jordanaires croon in the background
the hero just wants a kiss or cuddle
there is no crack or internet or global warming
there is no aids or botox or hummers
in my bungalow here in the hills
among the oaks n elms n syc-a-more trees
the blue jays nest
my blue heaven
miss scarlet riviera nee kilbey dances with me
my friends and i drink a toast
have you seen gary coopers new movie
super-duper
no osama
no obama
are they trying tell us something?
marty wakes up in the back of the car
are we there yet ? he asks pushing the hair outta his eyes
dad turns around still smoking his cigarette
eh? whats that slim? he says half coughing
in the bungalow the ice melts in the martinis
the swimming pool glows blue beyond the windows
after all theres no energy crisis in this world
its all holding hands and goodnight baby
the milkmans on his way