Kangaroo Valley

by George Anderson

Jamming the hand-brake 
on the steep hill 
Big Al grunts for a boulder
“Slip it under the wheel,
just in case.’
 
Snobs shouldn’t have
picked up that rock
on the side 
of the blue metal road-
 
a six foot black belly
black snake slithers out
seething,
rearing its shiny 
black brut of a head.
 
‘Watchit!’ someone yells
 
The snake racing
between Snob’s  outstretched legs
 
‘That’s a big motha fukka,’ he exclaims.
 
That night we sleep
in the commune’s bio-dome
four of us:
Snobs
Big Al
Crowbar
me
 
In the  tar of night
rats forage at our heads
sniffing,
taking swipes at our gear.
 
‘Told you to bring the flashlight,’
Big Al snarls.
 
In the morning
we stroll thru a paddock
to absorb some beautiful rays.
 
‘Me foot’s itchy’, Crowbar moans.
 
He removes his socks
there’s about 20 bloated leeches
sucking him dry.`
 
‘Anyone bring the salt, man?’ he wails.