WANDOO RESERVE
Just over the road from my
place is a reserve called Wandoo,
Many people want to camp
there as the district they pass on through.
It’s always chockers on long
week-ends, some even stay for a week,
There is no ablution block,
so facilities are rudimentary so to speak.
People occasionally ask me
for assistance they must think I’m the RAC,
Some demand immediate help
and some expect everything for free.
Others are very genuine, like
older people needing help with a tyre,
Perhaps I may have a compressor
or something else they may require.
But it’s the long term
campers and picnickers, who really fascinate me,
Because it’s not the most hygienic
place to sit and barbeque your tea.
For everywhere around this
camp-site is where people drop their faeces,
There bum fodder is
everywhere blowing round in dirty bits and pieces.
Why they don’t go along the
firebreak with a shovel has got me at a loss,
Their lack of hygiene and
bush etiquette really makes me cross.
I mean just dig a hole and bury
your crap and bury the paper too?
It’s kind of similar to a
flushing when using the bush as your loo.
But no most will just crap
anywhere like the animals they are,
To take a shovel down the
firebreak is taking things a step to far.
The scrub beside the road
must also be an utterly terrifying place,
With no thought for
cleanliness these people are a true disgrace.
I wonder do they wash their
hands after their stroll amongst the turds,
And the flies swarm around
their food stuffs like gigantic flocks of birds.
But still they come and camp
and cook and then eat their tucker here,
Of the things that lie on the
clearings edge they do not know or fear.
The fly upon your sandwich do
you care where he might have been,
Perhaps ignorance is bliss if
the surrounding shit you haven’t seen.
Meanwhile I’ll just be
careful where I ride and my horses put their feet,
And I hope I dodge the spot
where they bared their bums to secrete.
©
Corin Linch 28/12/14
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