(It’s you, not me and I’m on the Wendouree)
Up the pilgrim path she came
With an active ABN
She’d been contracting for far too long
And thought she’d make some friends
She swanned in as a temp
In her pearls and Marimekko
It was nice for her to write
Without channelling Gordon Gekko
She wrote some quite good stuff
But often it was late
She tried again, and lost some sleep
She reached her ideal weight
But as the timelines shrunk
And the role grew thick
She found herself empowered and
En route to Country VIC
She stopped quoting Dunning-Kruger
And Sun Tzu’s Art of War
She began writing in first person
And dashing out the door
From Yarraville to Footscray
She connected to the V/Line
For the first time in a long time
She filed that train like a deadline
Now we all know that writers
Are prone to mixing tense
But on the 9:23 Wendouree
Everything made sense
Meanwhile back in the office, they said
If it wasn’t screwed on
She would lose her head
I think she’s in love
Or maybe she’s pregnant
Is that a new dress
She’s suspiciously fragrant
I’ve heard he’s a farmer
And he’s tall and he’s slim
Well it’s 9:24 and she’s clearly not in!
On date one, he gave her a candle
Date two, some hand-made soap
Date three was a Liberty of London hankie
Filled with love and hope
So down the pilgrim path she goes
And in her eyes a gleam
The Annual Report is published
And she’s reporting a loss for FY18
She’s learnt about relationships
While working in their service
And hopes they find someone
Who’s truly fit for purpose
This poem is for the treasured folks
Fond of the time worth spending
To take a breath
Or leap and chance
On each and every ending
