By | 1 November 2018
Fat carp smack up
our boat. Far up,
far out, flap out t
he tarp. The sad
thing sags — a barb.
A barb.
A Barbara at Coonabarabran
eyes our jackets and
my pierced nose. But
she gives us coffee
to be scrambling up
the escarpment to park
our car. Put a
fist in my hair
while I feast.
What strange love have
you brought me, gub
carp from the city?
If we were fish,
like we are almost
now, parsing east the
river veins. And say
a Barbara, a pest
a barb like a
carp, pulled you up
far up her boat.
          I don’t want to think about it.
You’d flop on a
hot tinny floor you
fellow, with your lot.
Gut both you gubs
so you don’t pop.
          The   Fisheries   Management   Act
encourages, but does not mandate, such

And then hello, yellowbelly
bedfellow. Bellow gasping. Fold
like this foil on the
fire — lips together to
vent, I think, and
lips and lives together
for Centrelink.
If we were fish,
like we are eating
now, yellowbelly sweeping in f
rom the west. Then
idly resting your breast,
knowing what love we
know to detest. A
proselyting tide spreading up
the highways.

The carp didn’t start this. This is my ways.

We are afflicted with
these disgusting,
dwelling, mud-
sucking creatures.
The only form of
control is a version of
herpes; it is the only
thing that will get rid
of these disgusting,
creatures. We will
move forward on this
because we believe
that we should be
getting rid of these
disgusting, mud-
sucking creatures in
order to support
some of the better
animals of our
silver perch, the
yellowbelly, the
Murray cod, the
Eastern cod and the
catfish. You have to
go to some extreme
measures at times to
make sure that we
keep our economy
and our environment
healthy—even if it
requires a version of
a venereal disease to
deal with the carp. If
that is what is
required, then that is
what is required.
We…are going to
make sure that we
have healthy rivers
and a healthy
economy, because we
are going to get rid of
the carp.

— Barnaby Joyce,
     May 2016.

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