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Thylazine: The Australian Journal of Arts, Ethics & Literature                                                                                                                                    #4/thyla4k-sh AUSTRALIAN POETS SERIES 4 The Poetry of Steven Herrick Selected by Coral Hull [Above] Photo of Steven Herrick by photographer unknown, year unknown. I the vegetarian I To my son, Joe I Crocodiles in Double Bay I The Romance of Literature I Annabel on Jack I Charlie and the birds I the vegetarian My sister is a vegetarian and she doesn't let me eat in peace. When I go to eat some chicken she says "bye little chicken, bye Charlie chicken, bye, bye." Then, at breakfast when I'm eating my bacon, she says "That's Babe's brother you're putting in your mouth you know". And for my favourite, roast lamb, she sings "bah bah black sheep have you any meat yes sir yes sir it's in my brother's tummy". I'm getting so thin Because I just can't eat when she's around especially when we have steak. She says "the cow jumped over the moon the cow jumped over the moon and landed dead on your plate!" We can't even have fish and chips without her saying "the fish live in the sea the fish swim in the sea I don't eat the fish and they don't eat me". My sister is a vegetarian, and the rest of us are on a diet! Published in Poetry to the Rescue (University of Queensland Press, 1998). To my son, Joe For the first five years you'll be like your Dad you"ll fall over a lot always be on the bottle & stay awake all night. Then your Mother, who until now you've always trusted will send you off to a place where men in shorts and long socks named Mr Duffy will teach you i comes before e except after c other boys will think of stupid names to call you when you get out for a duck in the Final. Names like Slow Joe or Boofhead. Your Mother will tell you to ignore them. Your Dad will tell you to kick them in the guts. Thankfully you never listen to him. At 13 you'll get cramp in your stomach when you sit next to Wendy Spencer. Don't worry, this always happens around girls. It will disappear when you turn 75. When you leave school relatives will ask you what you want to do. You'll tell them you want to be like your Dad, they'll say "a poet!" you'll say "no,unemployed". Around this time your Dad will ask you to pay back the pocket-money for the past 15 years, with Interest. You'll tell him to speak to your Mother. Published in Caboolture (Five Islands Press, 1988). Crocodiles in Double Bay They are there they have come in from the north their goanna walk across the park has scared the seagulls their teeth are eager they walk on the morning bitumen with the authority of 310 kilos and 36 very strong teeth Two Mercedes and one Saab Turbo stop at a green light for them they are walking to the shops they turn left into Cross Street they ignore the police sirens blue lights seem useless against such determined revenge as the six crocodiles walk into the Double Bay Fur Shop looking for their cousin the handbag. Published in The Sound of Chopping (Five Islands Press, 1994). The Romance of Literature When I was young I wanted to kiss Becky Thatcher beside the Brisbane River but she was with Tom & Huck 12,000 miles away. me and Jack went swimming instead we threw rocks at empty bottles bobbing near the bank. we used coolite for a raft had boat races from the rail bridge to Stable Swamp Creek. we fished for yabbies & threw them live into boiling water they turned bright orange & we talked of leaving home. I was ten years old. When I was young I wanted to be Al Capone I oiled the barrel of my slug-gun stood tough outside the corner store an all-day-sucker hanging from sneering lips. Instead I stole 20c coins from the ashtrays of parked cars & wandered the night streets of Acacia Ridge beating the milkman to his small change by a full two hours. I was the richest kid in school. When I was young I wanted to drive a Cadillac non-stop across the country & eat apple-pie in every diner. Instead I bought a Holden drove to Sydney milking petrol from cars in small towns, got to the city, did a U-turn & drove right back. When I sold the car I hopped Freights froze in the Victorian winter told myself I needed a guitar to keep me warm. I was in love with myself as the hero of everything I read. Me, Becky Thatcher, Al, Kerouac, Bob Dylan. I was so American I could taste the hash browns. It was all there was for a kid when I was young. most of all I told myself i wanted to be an Australian but first I wanted somebody to tell me what that was. Published in The Sound of Chopping (Five Islands Press, 1994). Annabel on Jack Jack reads too many books. He thinks we’re going to drive all year and have great adventures. He thinks the little money we have will last. He wants to sleep in the car, cook dinner over an open fire. I’m just waiting for him to pack a fishing line, smiling, saying "we can live off the land". No chance! I’m not gutting a fish and cooking it. But I do want to go, even if it only lasts a month or two. Even if we drive to Melbourne and back and don’t talk to another person. I want to go. Why? Because I’ve never been more than 200 kilometres from home, and that was with my parents, on holiday. And because Jack is smart, but not that smart, if you know what I mean. You watch. First week, we’ll be out of money, sleeping near a smelly river, eating cold baked beans out of a can. The car will have a flat battery and Jack will be saying something like, "Isn’t this great. Back to nature. Living off the land, not a care in the world". No chance! Charlie and the birds When we were young, my brother Charlie was absent-minded. Mum or Dad would tell him to do something, some little job around the house, and strange birds would flap around his brain and fly away with his memory. Mum would say "Did you clean your room as I asked you?" Charlie would sit quiet with only the sound of flapping birds. Dad would say "Have you taken the rubbish out yet?" Charlie would jump up take out the rubbish and curse those meddling birds. As for me, I liked the birds. "Hey Charlie, can I have that dollar back? You know, the one I loaned you last week." "Hey Charlie, can you take me to the cinema on Friday, like you promised?" Don’t get me wrong. Charlie was smart. He could take a car engine apart and put it back together in a few hours. He could build anything out of wood or metal. He just worked at his own pace, in his own world. "Hey Charlie, remember you promised to build me a go-kart." Yes. Me, Charlie, and the birds. We were best friends. About the Poet Steven Herrick Steven Herrick was born in Brisbane on New Years Eve, 1958. He has had eleven books published - mostly for children and young adults. The spangled drongo won the NSW Premiers Literary Award 2000 (Patricia Wrightson Prize) and his three other verse-novels were all shortlisted for the NSW Premier's Literary Awards and the Children's Book Council of Australia Book of the Year Awards. His next books (verse-novels) are Tom Jones Saves the World (UQP, 2002), and Do-wrong Ron (Allen & Unwin, 2003). Steven lives in the Blue Mountains with his partner and children. He plays striker for the Wentworth Falls 0/35 soccer team.    [Above] Photo of Steven Herrick by photographer unknown, year unknown. I Next I Back I Exit I Thylazine No.4 (September, 2001)