Though born in Ireland once I was,
now I feel Oistralian ‘cos
I’ve been devoured by mossies,
sometimes by men in cossies.
I know this must sound corny
but I fantasise about shagging
the late, blonde-tonsured Warnie.
Have got a little towelling hat
an’ I have just learned how to bat … Howzat?

Have pink sun block upon my nose an’
yellow flip flops on my toes an’ when
I go for yum cha, now I’m saying “Ni hao ma?”
I’ve Roo steaks on my barbeque an’
I refuse to form a queue.
My bus seat I will not vacate
for aged or pregnant … be they late.
No longer say “How do you do”,
send thank you letters? Oh, screw you.

I’m workin’ hard on my vocab,
have mastered bastard, yobbo, bog,
won’t say Abbo, Lebbo, Frog.
I need a home, I need a loan
Allō, Ahlan, Marhaban, Bonjour,
Arab Bank? Is that you on the phone?
I’m hoping I am not too late
for I just want to assimilate.

And if I cannot be a Dame,
(thank you Malcolm Turnbull)
perhaps one day I might have fame.

**

Marie McMillan alleges her only brush with fame is that Andrew Lloyd Webber’s father signed her ALSMD parchment. Born and educated in Dublin, she has degrees Arts and Social Science from UCD and a Master’s in Creative Writing (Golden Key awardee) from UTS. The Lost Day – Under Newgrange, her fictitious crime fiction novel was published by Europe Books in 2020. Some of her poems and/or short stories have been anthologised.

P76 issue 9: Poetries of place/ displacement/ diaspora/ odyssey: On-line Edition. Table of Contents