by Paul Collins
flying over people
you never see.
Try this – live with
the other tribe
without knowing their language,
their customs, their version
of courtesy.
See how well they treat you.
See how well
you treat them.
Leaving Home
Sherryl Clark
It's still dark and the birds
in the gum trees out front
cheep sleepily as I pass
my backpack holds
sandwiches, water and jacket
chocolate and socks
I'm ready for running away
note on the kitchen table
bedroom door closed
the day grows light
the road winds up the hill
I've got a long way to travel
when I've found my place
in a world that wants me
I'll return. I'll be a boy
who's learned who he is,
a boy who's found love,
a boy who's become real.
My American Underpants
Janet Findlay
Illustrated by Louise Prout
My American Underpants
Were made in San Diego
They have a naval base there
And I guess some people
Like to keep their navels and their bases
Covered.
My American Underpants
Are louder than
My Aussie daks
Or my British boxers
Or even my Russian baggies.
And somehow, when I opened my luggage in
Brisbane …
They'd made it to the top of the pile!
(Maybe it was something to do with … customs.)
My American Underpants
Are confident
They're sassy
They're even bossy.
And they don't like to get tossed around.
I've noticed they get very agitated
In the washing machine and
The first time I hung them out on the line
They looked too bright in the Queensland sun.
I heard them complaining to the next-door knickers
That they are far too ‘high tech’ to hang
On a Hills hoist. For they can simply
Of course, My American Underpants are talkative
And charming. They can talk the pants off
Well – me for one.
And they've even taken over my drawers!
(My other undies …
… hardly get a look in these days.
They're getting a bit slack too now.
Sometimes they've been known to fall off the job.
And all because they've been DAZZLED
By my snappy American Underpants
Who run a tight ship down-under – Yes Sir!)
One time though
They thought they were being bugged
When I had ants in my pants.
They can be a bit touchy you see
And too big for their boots.
Sometimes they think the SUN
Shines out of their red, white and blue
Bottoms.
I don't like My American Underpants then.
Sometimes they plot
To cover ALL BASES and possibly
ALL NAVELS all over the world!
They ride high at these times.
That makes me uncomfortable.
Can I really relax with them?
Odds are, they'll desert me one day
And leave me without a leg to stand in.
There'll be friction. There'll be stress.
They'll get frayed at the edges,
Leave me without a shred of … human decency!
But I mustn't get too worked up. (They don't.)
Life's too brief to get down
About upwardly mobile, upstart American shorts …
And their BIG, BOLD, BRIGHT designs …
But just to be sure
Yesterday I shrunk My American Underpants
They got what was coming to them
They ended up in hot water
And it cut them down to size.
Of course, they protested.
Something about the TWENTIETH amendment
To their constitution … the right to be SUPER-SIZED!
So … ‘It was fun while it lasted!’ I said
To My American Underpants
And I put them firmly in their place.
Back in the bottom drawer.
After all, they may be talkative
Charming and empowered
But when you get down to the nitty gritty
They are just a pair of undies.
And because I'm in charge now
Because I've crawled out from underneath,
I'll let them have the last word.
WHAT A BUMMER!
Nothing is Going
Michael Wagner
Squinting up at the sky
Through the driver's window
Sun blinding one eye
A puffing red face
Worrying the traffic
Working out how to go faster than that
How to change instincts from anchor to keel
How to tack
How to land on both wheels
And nothing in this grown-up world is moving
Nothing is going
No thing
Except him
He's going
To remember all the feelings
The Problem With Self-help
Michael Wagner
I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person I am a good person am I a good person
Annabelle in the Airwaves
Sofie Laguna
Illustrated by Mitch Vane
Thank you Annabelle
Golden pup
For all those gifts of rolled-up socks
On the doorstep
Yellow dog
Milk-eyed
Retriever
Thank you
For surviving
Mum's repeated
Slit-eye beatings
Punishment
For pissing on floors
Tearing apart
That pale
Too precious garden
Four of us children
And a savage divorce
You carried
On your squat waddling back
Like the Pal-eating princess
You always were
Trusted
When all else was lions and fire
It was me
Who found
Your greying body
Wheezing
Cancer-eyed
In the uncut grass
Behind the house
I am so sorry for your abandonment
But I too
Went hungry
Angel dog
I commune with you still
In the car, late at night, tear-faced
I imagine you're somewhere in the airwaves
Watching me
As carefully
As you did the night
When nobody came home
We turned on every light in the house
And sat
By the front door
Waiting
Together.
How to Go Fishing
(for Alasdair)
Catherine Bateson
You must be thirteen again, a speckling of
blackheads across your nose.
/>
You must be awkwardly angular
with a belly as soft as a trout's.
You must talk river, bone
and star.
You must be silent about love
and all deep places.
You must follow your shadow
humming no recognisable song.
You must be prepared
for nothing.
You must always be able to swing home
empty-handed but for the sun under your
fingernails.
The Whippet Blues
Catherine Bateson
Illustrated by Mitch Vane
I've got the whippset rib cage blues,
sick of being skinny
with only chicken necks to eat
and tired of running fast.
I've got the whippet blues.
I want to be a whoppet
with a fob watch and a paunch.
I want to be a whoppet
eating Maccas with the lot.
I've got the whippet blues
oh yeah, the whippet rib cage blues.
I'm sick of chasing rabbits
tired of wallabies
I hate those chicken necks
and shiverin’ in the breeze.
I've got the whippet blues
oh yeah, the whippet rib cage blues.
I want to be a snippet
(that's just a little whippet
smaller than a packet of tea)
I'd be tucked into a jacket
spoilt just like a shitty zhu
(and live in ritzy Toorak, too,
with a man who drives a BMW)
oh man, I've got those whippet blues.
I'm sick of chasing rabbits
tired of wallabies
I hate those chicken necks
and shiverin’ in the breeze.
I've got the whippet blues
oh yeah, the whippet rib cage blues.
I want to be a hippet, wear a blue bandana
all the way down Brunswick Street.
Want to sit outside a fake cantina
watch the Fitzroy staffies work the beat.
I want to sip a pupocino, argue Foucault
wear some day-glo, be an urban hero.
I've got the whippet blues,
the skinny rib cage, chicken neck blues.
I'm so sick of chasing rabbits
tired of those wallabies
I hate the doggone chicken necks
and shiverin’ in the breeze.
I've got the whippet blues.
oh yeah mama,
got those skinny whippet blues.
Farewell Song
Meme McDonald
Old man
may there be a gentle rest
for you tonight
The moon is dark
the stars hard pressed
to keep alight
on this dead night
and warrior sun
he's slow to rise
cos things aren't right
old man
there's things not right
no they just aren't right
on the land tonight
Old man
may there be a gentle sleep
for you tonight
Children die young
with no way home
as troops march in
on this dead night
a wild wind blows
reckless with might
cos things aren't right
old man
there's things not right
no they just aren't right
on the land tonight
Old man
may there be a gentle grave
for you tonight
Stories are sold
for tricks and treats
secrets spoken
on this dead night
the curlew call
he wakes in fright
cos things aren't right
old man
there's things not right
no they just aren't right
on the land tonight
Old man
may there be a gentle song
for you tonight
Tupa the Snake
shifts in his skin
beneath dry earth
on this dead night
the evening star
she chases a moon
old man
to cradle your soul
till things come right
on the land tonight
Old man
may the spirits sing you home
on this good night
Sweet is the dream
for those who tread
the quiet back roads
on this good night
following footsteps
hidden from sight
old man
on this good night
yes on this good night
on the land tonight
we walk together
watered by stars
shining for you
on this good night
for you old man
for you good night
About the contributors
Deborah Abela
Deborah worked as a producer/writer for kids’ TV for seven years before leaving to write children's novels. She's the author of the Max Remy Superspy and Jasper Zammit (Soccer Legend) series, which she wrote with the legendary Johnny Warren.
Allan Baillie
Allan was born in Scotland – and there's a bit of Scotland in ‘The Fog’ – but when he was seven he came to Australia. He was a journalist, but now is just an author. Allan's last book was Cat's Mountain but there are two more coming, The Wave and Krakatoa Lighthouse. He sails or swims when possible.
Dianne Bates
Dianne (Di) has published many books for young people. She is the editor of an online magazine, Buzz Words, (www.buzzwordsmagazine.com) for people in the children's book industry. Di is married to children's author Bill Condon. Their website is www.enterprisingwords.com.
Catherine Bateson
Catherine, who started her writing life as a poet, is an award-winning writer for young readers and young adults. Her latest book, Being Bee, won the CBCA Book of the Year Award for Younger Readers.
Jenny Blackford
Jenny has always loved the myths and legends of the ancient world. Her stories have appeared in many publications, including the Hadley Rille anthology Ruins Terra, the NSW School Magazine, 30 Australian Ghost Stories for Children and a story about trolls in Jack Dann's Dreaming Again.
Sue Bursztynski
Sue was brought up in the beachside suburbs of Melbourne, where she still lives, with several pot plants and a lot of handcraft she's done over the years. She works in a secondary school library and teaches ESL. Sue remembers the day Armstrong and Aldrin walked on the moon.
Isobelle Carmody
Isobelle began writing The Obernewtyn Chronicles while still at secondary school. Since then she has established herself as one of Australia's leading writers of fantasy. Her award-winning book, The Gathering, was a joint winner of the 1993 CBC Book of the Year Award and the 1994 Children's Literature Peace Prize.
Sherryl Clark
Sherryl has been writing fiction and poetry for more than 20 years. Recently her poems have ganged up and become verse novels. The first, Farm Kid, won the 2005 NSW Premier's Award for Children's Books. The second, Sixth Grade Style Queen (Not!) was published by Penguin in May 2007.
Paul Collins
The editor of many anthologies, including Dream Weavers and Tales from the Wasteland, Paul also edited The MUP Encyclopaedia of Australian Science Fiction and Fantasy. He has been short-listed for several awards for editing, and has won the Peter McNamara, Aurealis and William Atheling awards. His website is www.paulcollins.com.au.
Bill Condon
Bill is the author of several young adult books, two of which, Dogs and No Worries, were Honour Books in the Ch
ildren's Book Council Awards. He has written close to one hundred books for children. Bill is married to author Dianne Bates. They live near the seaside in Wollongong, New South Wales.
Meredith Costain
Meredith lives in Melbourne with a menagerie of pets. Her work ranges from picture books to popular fiction and non-fiction, and she is the literary editor of three children's magazines. Meredith's books include Freeing Billy, It's True: Hauntings Happen and Ghosts Get Grumpy and Doodledum Dancing. Visit her at www.meredithcostain.com.
Gary Crew
Gary is one of Australia's most awarded authors, winning the Children's Book of the Year award four times and numerous other awards. He lives with his wife Christine on their property in the Blackall Ranges, near Maleny, in South East Queensland. He has three children and four grandchildren.
Justin D'Ath
Justin has written 24 books for children and young adults, including the very popular Extreme Adventure series, which features Sam Fox from ‘Wild Africa’. His latest YA novel is Pool. Justin lives with his partner Ryn and dog Holly beside a river in the hills north of Melbourne.
Hazel Edwards
Best known for There's a Hippopotamus on Our Roof Eating Cake, Hazel also writes YA novels such as Outback Ferals and ‘short’ crime. Recently she co-authored Cycling Solo: Ireland to Istanbul with her cartographer son Trevelyan Quest. Hobbies are belly dancing and asking questions. Visit her at www.hazeledwards.com.
Janet Findlay
Janet has been an actor, performance poet and radio copywriter. She has co-written many scripts, including the satirical 50s musical ‘The Heartache & Sorrow Show’ with Cathy Downes – performed at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Janet lives in South East Queensland where she regularly impersonates the Queen.
Kate Forsyth
Kate is the bestselling author of numerous books for children and adults, including The Gypsy Crown – the adventures of two Romany children in the time of Oliver Cromwell – Dragon Gold, The Starthorn Tree, and a picture book, I Am. She is also the author of the popular Witches of Eileanan series.
Scot Gardner
Scot lives in the Strzelecki mountain range in eastern Victoria. He flies his kites, collects skulls and makes musical instruments from weeds. His writing is mostly realist fiction for young adults and includes White Ute Dreaming, Burning Eddy, The Legend of Kevin the Plumber and Gravity. Visit his website www.scotgardner.com.
Grant Gittus
Grant has always had a keen interest in science fiction and fantasy and has been responsible for a number of book covers, illustrations, T-shirts, posters and even co-authored the world-famous Biker Baby Learns to Count with Rod Tokely. For relaxation he operates a small graphic design business in South Melbourne, Victoria. Visit www.gggraphics.com.au.