Sometimes Stanley’s Barkin’ Jack
famous bushranger from the Australian outback
transported to New South Wales in 1846
for unlawfully pawing six tripe sticks
escapes to the bush, leads a pack
of feral lurchers and mutts like that
steals from the rich, harries the traps
gets into legendary scrapes and scraps
till the final, furious, canine shootout
his water low, his last chew chewed out
barks through the window of the settler’s cottage
reckoning five traps to the best of his knowledge
(there’s actually fifty, so Barkin’ blunders;
he was never particularly good with numbers)
he rummages inside the recycling bins
fashions some armour from baked bean tins
bounds outside, pistols flaming
as the bullets from the traps come raining
the rest I’m afraid is ancient history
– but why he’s haunting Stanley’s a bit of a mystery