ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

....no tissues required...

Garage Sale

There’s a garage sale this weekend, I think I’ll take a look
Might pick up an old toaster or a cheap detective book
Or a TV that “should work” but won’t work very well
Or a coffee percolator, or a new hat – who could tell?

I like to look at garage sales; they make the seller’s strong
For they’ve finally discarded things that no longer belong
Like one time cripples on the mend who’ve thrown away their crutch
We need some things for happiness, but really not that much

There will be exercise machines and sets of unused scales
That tell the tale of laziness and late night TV sales
I'll look for stacks of children’s toys, reluctantly collected
And check a stack of fishing gear, infrequently inspected

A box of books, a pile of clothes, a roll of chicken wire
These are things we grow out of and no longer require
The markers of a life outlived, that no-one wants to touch
We need some things for happiness, but really not that much.

I want to go and make a list and empty out my drawers
Collect a pile of useless things that everyone ignores
I need to re-assess my needs and quicken up my pace,
I could use a little lighter load and surely need the space

I have to tell myself to start to give my life a spruce
discard the worn out objects that have long outlived their use
I want to throw away the stuff to which I seem to clutch
You need some things for happiness, but really not that much

I’ll start with the fitness stuff and all the fishing gear
I've pick up at the garage sales a hundred times a year
There's seven stacks of children’s toys and double that in books
There'd be a few good reads in there but no-one ever looks

I’ve fifty percolators and a hundred old TV’s
There's piles of clothes and chicken wire and boxes of LP’s
I now own sixty mountain bikes that no-one ever rides
The shed and yard are full of junk and bulging at the sides

The hall is full of newspapers and stacked with magazines
Nobody ever moves them out, nobody ever cleans
I'd like to clean my nest up but the bower bird prevails
I can't resist a bargain and just love those garage sales

So I must just accept the way I live with all my stuff
You need some things for happiness, and I can’t get enough !


h

You have to stay away from those things, they're addictive.

Very funny and enjoyable poem Hully. Just last week a lady I know was secretly taking her husband's collection of goodies to the op shop while he was out of the house. Seems he has a problem too! Now she has to keep him clear of the op shop.

Heather

Yeah, good stuff Hully. My sentiments Heather . . I just cleaned out our shipping container and donated a heap of stuff to the local Lions Club who are having an auction tomorrow. I've told my missus to knee-cap me if I start bidding for stuff we've just given away. I must of contemplated 'angle grinder juggling' at some stage, I cannae think of any other reason why I had four of them? (besides kleptomania)

Cheers, Marty

hully,

I have the answer... it is so obvious... have a garage sale!

Then Hully with the money you made on your garage sale you could have a look on ebay - gee they have some grouse stuff there

Cheers

Maureen

I like this one Hully. It sounds like you researched and wrote about a friend of mine.

Suzanne

Hey Suzanne,
Manfred posted pages from the old battleground a few months ago - worth a read if you can find them ! !
hope you're well.

Marty - "The Chicken Coop Incident"....why is this not a poem????...

cha

h

Hail King Hully. When at the royal banquet I promise not to throw any more apples at your head... for now I'll catch up Manfred and see what he has. Long live the Queen.

Hope all is well with you too.
Suzanne

Found just what you need Hully. A garage sale to house all that happiness mate.


The Storyteller