Fraser Island ferry musings

Urangan boat harbour. Fraser escape. To every last hole in the looniverse. You and I versus he. The last molecule squeezed out of you for dripping. From the charm of the little two is the monster where no-one rhymes. Kidneys let loose in chromium difficult to see where it leads at all. Let us follow and strutter anyway until the blargue is degonfled the hemingway.

I harbour loss inside a pan-american shriver post-panamaximexicana pepsicana pocapotecl pocket of petals and a man from Dad’s team got sent off. I should organise it next year. Deep pockets for the team. Raffle. Shake and hummingbird, mocking each other gently.

Forget Democrat v GOP, when a casual Californian voter (as opposed to the most casual informal no-vote-at-allers) sees a ballot paper that reads Schwarzenegger v Gray Davis, then the dweeb is in for it. Oh hurray for the Osterreich! Edeladvice to young and old. Ask Eliza Fraser. But I don’t know what shipwreck she was from in my halfhour of Googling today. Must ask tomorrow. Should be great. Ah, twas the Stirling Castle in 1836 that ran aground and left lovely Liza to the tender mercies of the local heathens!

Six years of dreaming. Must do something. Sometime. The present to you is the presence. The carol is sung as three. You are already past your future and merlin coming out the other side parallax half-arsed backwards in a chemical way. The font of botany is fulcrum sideways from my mirror. Snoopy makes me happy but only in a slight way. I must combust justly or for other reasons that my heart enjoins. You, as it were. Ergo, ego dripping from the wall. Slow sleek seek.

There are two schools (what, just two? Isn’t there a Jewish one around here?), one of which says “Do it, then do it right” and the other which says “Do it once and do it right”. And isn’t this what you wanted to revitalise anyway? Perfume, manure, manufactured essence. Distilled fermented gravy and gravular. Before weeding out the intellectuals.

Sunday.
Swimming backwards to the island on the Fraser Dawn (not Albion's Castle Stirling.) A badly rusted but wittily named barge cuts a swathe between the punning paths of dugongs, dolphins and detritus.

Shark bait, swamp wallabies, echidnas, termites and dingos. Please Mungo Park, Never no Niger no more. From Hervey Bay's giant rabbit to Moon Point in one hour flat. The Beagle has landed. Giant leap for mangroves. Cookie was 'ere. 1770 and all that.

Siamese Twins from the transit of Venus,
around town you might have seen us.
anatomically correct,
in every respect
except the inconvenience of only one penis

Ba-boom crash!