One Of The Boys Poem by Simon Collins

From the
Mouths like bottom dwelling fish
Turned down and tight
More than three syllables never sounds right
Drawn and measured like an old cows walk
It's the Reds or the Blues, who won last night?
Talk
Trampling with gumboots
Any hint of grace
One of the boys
Down at the club
Drunk off his face
One of the boys
Called Jonesy or Pete
He's
leaning on his ute
That he calls a truck
Maybe its because of size and all that