"It is difficult to eat well outside the capital cities." -- Food writer Cherry Ripe on ABC Radio, 1/10/97
With apologies to Peter Kocan for my destroying one of his greatest and my favourite poems, but Sharkboys post and Andys reply made me do it.
* *Its a heartrending thing to see
* *A coffee lover whos been caught thirsty
* *And who knows he will never make it back
* *To his Silvia by dinner time.
* *Theres the look of mute despair in the eye,
* *The slack lips and distended belly,
* *The hand clutching the half-empty Starbucks cup,
* *The weak voice crying out for Guatemalan.
* *We found a whole car-load of them once,
* *Their BMW stalled by the roadside.
* *We somehow got them back to the homestead
* *And offered some International Roast for pitys sake.
* *There was nothing appropriate in the house,
* *Just Mums Sunday roast with the trimmings,
* *Followed by the apple-pie and cream.
* *Of course they couldnt swallow muck like that.
* *We had to watch them wasting away.
* *We buried the pitiful bodies by the creek.
* *You blame yourself, thinking they mightve lived
* *If only youd had a Giotto standing by.
* *Now we brood continually upon
* *Hardships that we have never known,
* *The endless compassion that we owe
* *To palates more exquisite than our own.