Brains
We didn’t call him Brains
in a totally ironical sense
because the bloke
was a gun builder
& street smart
& a passable surfer.
What concerned us
was his choice of women
which was from an early age
questionable at best.
Let’s just simply say,
that he allowed his dick
to do his thinking for him.
Take his latest foray
to bring home the bacon
to get his shit together again
in Mount Isa
to save enough for a deposit
for a home
& then return to the Gong.
After a year
of a bloody hard earn
in the mines
Brains returns
with empty pockets
save for a hardened sheila
with four feral kids
who has a bent for
4 litre cask wine
in the early afternoon
& stray quiver bone.
