Well,
there was
no shortage of apples or artichokes
no shortage of walnuts or whiskey
no shortage of cherries or chickens
no shortage of lamb or leeks
no shortage of pork or pinot noir
no shortage of edible flowers or eggs
no shortage of sprouts or Green Man stouts
no shortage of capsicums or Colin’s creamy farmhouse brie
no shortage of potatoes or pies
no shortage of coffee or Cardrona merino lamb
no shortage of tabbouleh or Ken’s tussocks
no shortage of bread or beets
no shortage of galettes or garlic paste
no shortage of asparagus or Afife’s Lebanese delectations
no shortage of smoked salamis or short skirts
no shortage of pears or pizzas
no shortage of vegans or vendors
no shortage of buskers on the platform jamming the blues.
But.
By the time we reached Tony’s ’Nemo’ van
the only fish left were
five
small
sole.
‘It’s been a shocker of a week’, he said.
‘With three hours out to the reef
and three hours back,
and with no calm
to get any sleep. Still,
there’s always next week,
eh’.

© Jason Goroncy
December, 2013

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Three years later, in 2016, Mike Crowl set the poem to music. Its first – and possibly last? – performance was by The Choristers.