[Writingworkshop] The Kwiry

[Adam Holland]

nice!




--
The anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of
grace.


On Fri, Oct 2, 2009 at 8:48 PM, Neale Morison <neale at nealemorison.com>wrote:

>  Now you mention it, it was a bit like that. My daughter Elizabeth just did
> a science project on the cell. She used a plastic food storage container as
> the outer membrane, and filled it with clear hair gel for protoplasm, in
> which she suspended the mitochondria and nucleus and this and that. It was a
> very spooky little cell, the way it wobbled. But after all that food I was
> starting to wobble a little myself.
>
>
>
> Here are some pictures of the dust storm:
> http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/09/dust_storm_in_australia.html
>
>
>
> Adam Holland wrote:
>
> Love it.
>
> I can see it in a graphic novel now, all writhing protoplasm, with heads
> emerging and being resorbed constantly, consuming everything, and when
> there's nothing left, consuming people, to add to its soul-withering
> ensemble.
>
>
> --
> The anticipation of outcome guarantees, if not failure, the absence of
> grace.
>
>
> On Thu, Oct 1, 2009 at 5:25 AM, Neale Morison <neale at nealemorison.com>wrote:
>
>> I came back on Sunday from a choir tour to what I suppose you could call
>> the outback. On the day that we left there was an extraordinary dust storm
>> that turned the sky dark red. We visited a few towns in the Western Plains,
>> Coonabarabran (pop 2069), Baradine (pop. 593) and Coonamble (pop. 4790),
>> where the Moorambilla Music Festival took place. The pivotal piece in our
>> main concert, performed with 50 or so choristers, 160 local children, a
>> string quartet, soprano sax, keyboard, and four piece taiko drum ensemble,
>> was The Yowie Suite. A Yowie is a dreamtime monster, of whom most locals can
>> usually tell a story of personal confrontation. It's a smelly, black beast
>> that chases victims around in the scrub at night.
>>
>> The Kwiry
>>
>> Moorambilla 2009
>>
>> They're out here...
>> The ancient ones...
>> Kw-i-iry...
>> Kwi-ry......
>>
>> A writhing, giant centipede,
>> A hundred legs, and arms galore,
>> And fifty gaping mouths, what's more,
>> That always seem to need a feed.
>>
>> It dashes through the scrub at night,
>> Or through the blazing light of day,
>> At something like a hundred K,
>> Or faster when the schedule's tight.
>>
>> And when it sees a country town,
>> Its mouths curve in a ghastly grin,
>> Ignoring signs, it charges in,
>> And from its shell it slithers down.
>>
>> Backing singers, in tones of mounting terror:
>> Run, run, run, run, run ...
>>
>> The smell? A fierce array of stinks,
>> Old wine, and Scotch, and strong perfumes,
>> Deodorant, small, crowded rooms,
>> And T-shirts briefly rinsed in sinks.
>>
>> The sound? A shriek of dark despair,
>> And yowls and groans and oohs and aahs,
>> And strangled moans and doos and dahs,
>> And diphthongs stretched beyond repair.
>>
>> More scones! it screams. The locals quake,
>> Their blood runs cold to hear the sound,
>> They slaughter livestock all around,
>> And slice and dice and ice and bake.
>>
>> They offer up the sacrifice,
>> On groaning altars filled with food,
>> To somehow calm the Kwiry's mood;
>> It must be fed at any price.
>>
>> There's fifty fifty steak and steak,
>> There's coleslaw, rice, cream, scones and jam,
>> There's curried chicken, minted lamb,
>> And tea and sixty kinds of cake.
>>
>> It leaps, devouring every dish,
>> There's nothing that it will not eat,
>> Except at times it balks at meat,
>> Then townsfolk need to trap some fish.
>>
>> For days the town rings to its howl,
>> Until at last there's nothing left,
>> The Kwiry leaves the town bereft,
>> Of beef and mutton, fish and fowl.
>>
>> And then it crawls into its shell,
>> And hurtles off in frenzied haste,
>> A barren, devastated waste
>> Behind it, all that's left to tell.
>>
>> So when you see a blood-red sky,
>> And eerie wailing fills the air,
>> You know the Kwiry's left its lair;
>> Bend down, and kiss your ass goodbye.
>>
>> (Run, run, run, run run .... ... RUN!)
>>
>> --
>> Neale Morison
>> neale at nealemorison.com
>> http://www.nealemorison.com
>> 35 Frazer St, Leichhardt NSW 2040
>> +61 417 661 427
>>
>>
>> _______________________________________________
>> Writingworkshop mailing list
>> Writingworkshop at nealemorison.org
>> http://nealemorison.org/mailman/listinfo/writingworkshop_nealemorison.org
>>
>
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>
> --
> Neale Morisonneale at nealemorison.comhttp://www.nealemorison.com
> 35 Frazer St, Leichhardt NSW 2040
> +61 417 661 427
>
>
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