There’s people battling in the west.
The boom has bust, constructions done.
Moppin’ up next coupla years
around ore mines n railway lines,
spider webbed across Nor west
Oil ‘n’ gas remains the king,
FIFO constructions still the in thing
‘n’ ships offload their freight at sea
Reload with oil or gas n leave.
And there’s less FIFO employees to share
the spoils investors leave
as slowly all’s developed,
done ‘n’ Chevron holds the smoking gun.
indigenous, those in the know drive Tojos,
fueled ‘n’ stores for free,
Old stamping grounds
that their forebears never seen,
searching out sacred sites
‘n’ lumps as if old indigeni
had dug or left a monumental mound
to mark out sites or hunting ground.
They knew their borders, marked with fear.
Stronger tribe been livin’ here!
They weren’t against a sneak attack,
in fact enjoyed a good old stoush.
Girls strippin’ off ‘n’ bash it out.
Slowly we’ve been educated commuting out
across the nation.
Roadways, sealanes, wherewithal
to mine more oil ‘n’ gas ‘n’ ore.
Way out in the west there’s people who struggle.
Whilst mine leader’s lip sink
in pantomine Juggle
If you like my poems . . .