Cornflakes boxes muesli bags rice bubbles,

theme from Arthur leaks from the ceiling—

Arthur he does what he pleases/all of his life

his master’s toy/—

I lift my eyes past

Savings brand blue and white stripes

to Coles Farmland’s fat red stamps,
/he’s showin’ himself a pretty good time/—
Walking down the aisle, one hand on the cart,

passed glitter and plastic, my head held up

to top row cordials. Cottees, deeper green

than a winter lawn – I’ll have that one.

And look at my son: standing on the trolley bow,

chest out, a little Macarthur, sucking a Chup-a-Chup,
/he’s wondering to himself, hey, what have I found?/—
The girl on the Inside Sport cover, she’s looking

at me. Undressed and undressing me,
/When you get caught between the moon and New York City/—
I’ll take any number you like. But not the square ham.

I’ll take six slices of Honey Leg Ham. And, yes, there will

be something else, thanks—/I know it’s crazy, but it’s true/—
Eighty dollars seventy five! The cost of living–

No, I don’t have Fly Buys. Never been on a plane.

Give me a form, yeah, I’ll fill it out. Wouldn’t mind

taking the boy to Sydney, see what I can buy.

Maybe see the Opera House. They say

some days it looks like it might sail right out

into the Harbour then keep on going—
When you get caught between the moon

and New York City/the best that you can do/

the best that you can do/the best that you can do . . .