Blackfella: Down Under: Poem 6 of 10:
Sonnet: In the Null Arbor
by John Kendall Hawkins
Deep in the Null Arbor there are no trees --
not even the mighty coast-to-coast gum,
with their trippy fallen honkey nut seeds,
but there is one old tree that people come
from many mad miles, east-west, to dance around,
known in old legend as the Cunny Tree,
rare and esoteric and wonderbound --
reeks of polymorphous perversity.
Freud would've had a field day with its fruit,
strewn not far, crenellations all glissy,
good eatn,' if you have a taste to suit,
union jack flags for leaves, wind-blown, prissy.
You may think twice about eating a peach --
the pits, the fuzz -- but Cunny gives new hope,
soft feral moans within succulent reach,
you'll fight no more, and go all rope-a-dope.
Blackfellas watch from dream trees and yell, "C*nt,"
and get back a high-strung One Nation grunt.
* Null Arbor is a play on Nullabor, the southwest area of Australia that is largely barren.
(Article changed on Mar 04, 2021 at 5:37 PM EST)