Published in Overland Issue 228 Spring 2017 Uncategorized Everything that happens in the film clip for Men At Work’s ‘Down Under’ Liam Ferney A mid-twenties yarn, classic as A Country Practice kicks off with a caveman’s sodapop bottle steel kettle drum. Kombi cracks in the Cronulla dunes. TANERLORN RULES. The Age of Aquarius ends but we’re in the Eternal City now. Four fellas in the back. FAAAAARK! The medium serves muesli by an oasis & the Sipowicz spiv in sunnies says its SOLD SOLD to the guy with the toy koala playing flute in the tree. Deepcover as a tall Belgische in sailor stripes gives the shibboleth then handballs a Vegemite baguette sloshes seven Foster’s tinnies in four pots heaping with head. Bombay shanti shanti bombed on hashish not bliss. We’re not buying your old shoe but we will buy a bright prophecy through a freshly torn backdoor to our Cronulla. A spaghetti Western funeral & the bit I don’t understand is the stuffed koala chained to an ankle trawling across the sand like a fisherman’s slack line. Read the rest of Overland 228 If you enjoyed this poem, buy the issue Or subscribe and receive four outstanding issues for a year Liam Ferney Liam Ferney’s most recent collection, is Hot Take His previous collection, Content, was shortlisted for the Prime Minister's Literary Award and the Judith Wright Calanthe Award. His other books include Boom (Grande Parade Poets), Career (Vagabond Press) and Popular Mechanics (Interactive Press). He is a media manager, holder of the all-time games record for the New Farm Traktor Collective and convener of the Saturdays readings in Brisbane. More by Liam Ferney Overland is a not-for-profit magazine with a proud history of supporting writers, and publishing ideas and voices often excluded from other places. If you like this piece, or support Overland’s work in general, please subscribe or donate. Related articles & Essays First published in Overland Issue 228 25 November 202225 November 2022 Poetry Poetry | Summer animal Jini Maxwell This summer I can feel myself turning back into an animal. I wake up early and seek out trees, walking through the expansive quiet of the park until the heat starts feeling sharp on my skin. I leave the blinds closed, so when I return home the building is dark and familiar, and as I shut the door behind me I feel a satisfaction I can only describe as territorial. First published in Overland Issue 228 24 November 202225 November 2022 Politics ‘Sir, please get me the Manager’: Brazil before and after Bolsonaro Guido Melo By then, although young in age, I already knew about those rituals of humiliation and how they were part of my Black family's lives. I also knew that surviving those daily interactions required putting my head down and following the instructions received with no hesitation. I must have had ‘the talk ‘with my parents when I was eight or nine. Life was just like that. Being Black in Brazil means living in a war. No one should ever go to war underprepared.