The Three things challenge took on an Oz theme this week with the words ‘mozzie’ ‘garbo’ and ‘bogan’. I chose to add a few more.

Many of you may have no idea of what I am talking about.

I hope not, anyway.

**********************

I’m living somewhere

Back of Bourke

Pissed as a fart

I’m out of work

Nowhere to go

Nothing to do

Outnumbered by

The kangaroo

Where crocs and spiders

Hunt in packs

Where mozzies bite through

Underdacks

No Nancy-boys

No poofters here

Just long hot days

And ice cold beer

I love me dog

I love me ute

I’d love a jillaroo

To root

But since she’s gone

On walkabout

I think it’s me

That’s missing out

For though that shiela’s gone

I’m sure

She’s banging like

A dunny door

A tragedy

Of bogan life

The garbo ran off

With me wife

Lacking the energy to post anything of worth but feeling a need to do something, even if unworthy, nonetheless, I offer a few short lines of rhyme that I wrote in response, a little while ago, to Cyranny’s Prompt but via Kate, but never bothered to post. I hope it is taken in the lighthearted manner that is intended.

A hint of hope
A glimpse of chance
A little fling
A dalliance
A bold request
To touch, to dance
To find a way
Into your pants

Dance with me

I was listening to this, this morning and had a passing feeling of lightheadedness and a need to share.

99 word challenge from carrot ranch

Not all is lost,” he said to himself, surveying the wreckage of the relationship.

She had left her umbrella behind.

And he would use it, if need be, to fight off further frosty winter downpours of fabricated love, of pre-meditated lust, of rehearsed emotion.

On the bedside table there remained a picture of her, smiling suspiciously into the future. He took pleasure in ripping it from its frame and tearing it into tiny pieces, allowing the fragments to fall, like confetti, onto the floor. Good riddance.

He loved her, of course. But she was gone. And it was raining.