Robert Verdon, #39, the fifties farm

The Fargo must be double-declutched, I saw,

While prop-jet aircraft whistled overhead;

For this we crossed the world when I was four.

With posters (emu, Aborigine) galore,

At five, I found the little schoolroom bled;

The Fargo must be double-declutched, I saw.

The poddy calf was penned in nicely, or

The mother cow would see that it was fed;

For this we crossed the world when I was four.

We had to boil the milk, my mother’s chore,

Or all of us (we thought) might end up dead;

The Fargo must be double-declutched, I saw.

None could tell me how cows survived before

They had the men to milk them in the shed;

For this we crossed the world when I was four.

A sandwash on the Molonglo kept the law,

Like Eartha Kitt on the wireless as time sped;

The Fargo must be double-declutched, I saw,

For this we crossed the world when I was four.