Poem: The Old’n

On my first night there. The RSL. Signing me in with grandfatherly pride. Tattered remnants of old Christmas decorations Stir limply from dusty rafters. An architectural monstrosity. “Early Scout hall”. Clusters of cronies breast the bar And past presidents, in faded gold Challenge the Roll of The Fallen. He proudly displays Australian disrespect for rank. […]

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