Beebobanian

 Clock towers toll

On St Thomas's street

And the road of robbers

And the northern beat

And the rained on feet

And our scuffed souls

And shoes like rubber dummy controls

Who check our haste and fasten

Our foals

To the evening rains of a field

so dole

Out the laughs spoon up the gags

Let me hear them calling

For the last rags

Which report in dishwater type

Of crooning nags

And billowing bags

That blow from West to East

That hairy beast is howling still

In the moonlight of a window sill

And coming through the stamens teeth

Which grind in a dual mouth-breach

So he tells you once, he tells you twice

He is the Bird of paradise

Oh Beebobanian dog

With the banana body

Just the size of a mouse

Who says NaNa and slobbers rainbows

How is it that your garden still grows?

Coming up steady, coming up strong

From the heady reaches of a Red Babylon

The Red planet's dust in your paws

That you shake off, emerging in the breath he draws

Of that sweet Australian Sun

He drops like a grey hound

And away you run