Day 25 — the dead & the biscuit

The superimposed theme has made this year’s Anzac Day Poem a trifle harder than previous years. I’m pleased with the angle taken, though I think it might be expanded upon in a future draft…

*****

the dead down under

long squatting on a rock
observing the ferryman

causes me to note the dead do not
seem to ever cease arriving

lately though it’s easy to tell
some het up petty king up above

must be arguing with some 
other equally belligerent lord

cos the deadstream of bewildered soldiers 
is wider swifter & deeper than Styx itself

*****

Day 25 — TIL about biscuits

The Original Anzac Biscuit

i.
first up: the delicious 
sweet biscuit of childhood
rolled oats & golden syrup 
is not the original Gallipoli treat
(*even if it is best)

ii.
hardtack biscuits are exactly 
as tasty as they sound 
having been a soldier’s staple 
ration for centuries
(& some allegedly were that old)

iii.
a bread substitute whose best attribute  
is it doesn’t go mouldy (well yum)
unlike bread, they’re very, very hard
not to mention pretty well unpalatable

iv.
to make them semi-digestible
they were ground into a kind 
of gruel by grating & adding water
— for something more exotic 
(once soaked) jam was added 
before baking over a fire into “tarts”
not quite like mother used to make

v.
if you didn’t want to eat them
(& why would you) you could 
also to write letters to loved ones
& send them home or use them 
as paint canvases or photo frames
one even transformed to “christmas card” 
with that most christmas of topics
— a tropical scene — painted on it
including the wonderful verse
WE’RE SENDING THIS / (WE’LL RISK IT) 
/ XMAS CARDS ARE VERY / SCARCE 
SO WE / WROTE IT ON A BISCUIT