An Australian writes
Well Sir: Having just arrived from Australia on the 8th of this month and being practically addicted to the Australian political magazine Broadside I ventured forth in this strange land and purchased a copy of SPECTATOR. Finally reaching pages 254, 255 I find them full of humorous rot and drivel, so I will now add my contribution which, you must remember, was written when I was full of the joy of living in a land of plenty. It started off as a one-verse poem but before my eyes it multiplied into the 'Great Denis Brock Un- finished Ode to Unignominy'. It was written on the 3rd of last month and is entitled 'I Eat Codfish and Barnacle':
My life is Puritanical, My life is utter hell, I eat codfish and barnacle. They don't go down too well!
I went unto a doctor, I went unto a nurse, But all that they could tell me, That it was getting worse!
(To be read with feeling) I went unto a foreign land, I went unto the moon, I knew, my end was coming nigh, I knew, my end was soon!
(To be read quicker) I travelled through the darkest night I travelled through the day
I searched within, without myself, This curse was here to stay.
I thrust my fingers down my throat,
I thrust them down again, I felt that I, myself, must kill, To ease this horrid pain!
Perhaps you think this poem would be better with a finish to it, but I feel that as it is, it is more like a Alfred Hitchcock story and is therefore better left with a vague finish.
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