extract from 'The Cattle Dog's Revenge'
 ...The
dog bailed out the window They said, "Oh, you little tyke"
One word from this mug, and he did exactly as he liked
And like a black and tan tornado with a brainless snarling
face,
He caused an orgy of destruction 'round our peaceful
country place
He flogged our poor old kelpie bitch and not content with
that,
Killed six of Mum’s best laying chooks and murdered
Grandma’s cat.
He chewed our poor pet possum’s tail and chased it up a
tree
While this dork flicked pages in his book on "Dog
Psychology".
And while the city bloke was trying to find answers out
of books,
The Rottweiler, teeth gnashing, headed straight for Andy’s
chooks.
Yes, young Andy's special bantams who'd won prizes at the
show,
Looked just like they were going to be the next thing here
to go...
extract from 'Desmond and the Dunny Cart'
 Desmond
finished school days and joined the working world
His aim was to go someplace where he'd meet a lot of
girls,
For Desmond carried tickets on himself most people felt,
And his mind was firmly centred on concerns below his
belt.
Desmond felt life in the city would much better suit his
needs
Than vegetating in the country with us Hicks and Hayseeds.
That young man could see no merit in a life out in the
sticks.
For him, a sports car and a penthouse and a large array of
chicks.
So he'd ring us up occasionally to skite about his life –
How he'd been with several models and a politician's wife,
And how girls of every shape and size had fallen to their
knees
Due to his expertise in matters that relate to birds and
bees...
extract
from 'Shearing in the Nudist Club'
 Now,
I'm really quite a shy bloke and I'd never entertain
The thought of running naked through the woodland and the
plain,
But there's people who think clothes are just not needed
in the scrub.
That's how I got this job of shearing in a bloody nudist
club.
This ad. was
in the paper for someone who could keep
A handpiece in the wool and peel about a hundred sheep.
She'd be just the thing for Saturday, or so it seemed to
me.
I could cop a hundred dollars and be in the Pub by three.
I sat there by their gateway in the old ute's driver's
seat
And read the sign that claimed this was a ”Naturists'
Retreat".
"This must be a mob of greenies. I'll have some fun," I
thought
'Cause winding up Tree Huggers is a common rural sport.
I poked down to the woolshed sitting out there on the
flat.
Unpacked me gear and wondered idly where the boss was at.
"Hi there" said a voice behind me, and I started at the
sound.
Boys! I nearly
dropped me bundle when I flamin' tumed around! ...
extract from 'Images of Australia'
Darkness slips down as the little plane
plies the coastal range
over sugar fields in patchwork almost artfully arranged.
Twenty separate canefires send their pyres leaping high.
An image of Australia fills the smoky evening sky.
Ghostly sentinels of treetops in uneathly
weird mirage,
man made apparitions, poles and silos looming large.
A thin wind off the blacksoil tugs at us as we stand
to see an image of Australia spread across the level
land...
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