Free Holocaust Island by Graeme Dixon Page B

now
    so I’m gunna chase the moon
    and I know exactly how
    I’ve got this appeal
    due to be heard
    it’ll be knocked back
    coz the judge is a turd
    But if manatj 8 give me
    a smidgeon of a break
    it’ll be a risky chance
    I’m prepared to take
    I’ll start training tomorrow
    or better still tonight
    to be fit as a fiddle
    and ready to fight

    â€œYigga to the grill!
    get ready for the court!”
    Well this is finally it
    my brain nervously thought
    Shit, shower and shave
    then into caged prison van
    butterflies fluttering in guts
    hoping that I can
    take full advantage
    of opportunity’s coming my way
    remembering the cliche
    â€œall are famous for one day”

    Escorted to the cells
    in the Supreme Court bowels
    dark, dingy and dank
    full of smells so foul
    Slyly I slipped off tie
    sticking it in me pocket
    I had this flimsy plan
    piss weak but don’t knock it

    They called out my name
    To get myself prepared
    I was bracing my institutionalised brain
    beyond the realms of care
    They cuffed both my wrists
    and led me on out
    I gave manatj a glance
    both were stocky and stout
    Up steep wooden stairs
    the manatj escorted me
    all thoughts in my head
    were only of being free
    We sat on a hard wooden bench
    outside the courtroom
    I was trying to shake off
    premonitions of doom
    â€œDo ya’s mind if I smoke?”
    I asked one of the police

    My frayed, tangled nerves
    I hoped nicotine would ease
    The manatj answered “No,
    but ya better make it quick
    I’m certain your name
    will be called in a tick”
    I said I didn’t care
    if my appeal succeeded or not
    as in six months time
    I’d be free on the trot
    â€œI’ve done three years”
    I added with reckless grin
    â€œand another six months
    is not original sin
    and jail don’t hurt much
    if you stay relaxed
    at least in prison a man
    don’t get his pay taxed!”
    Both manatj just smiled
    Seemingly more at ease
    neither appeared to jerry
    that I was on the sleaze
    â€œDo ya’s reckon it’s possible
    to take off the cuffs
    so I can put on me tie
    and look less of a scruff?”
    They stared each other
    in the eye-balls
    one shrugged his shoulders
    saying “no worries at all”
    I put on wrinkled tie
    forced smile on face
    deep down in my chest
    my heart fairly raced

    â€œJohn Yigga to room one”
    the court bailiff called
    on hearing these words
    poor heart nearly stalled
    â€œWell, here ya go Yigga”
    The manatj said to me
    â€œyou’ll soon find out
    what the appeal judge decrees”
    We walked into court
    silent as a grave
    I was breathing deep and hard
    trying to be brave
    The court clerk hit his hammer
    Shouting “all ye stand!”
    Wigged, owl-like judge entered
    self-righteous and grand
    â€œSo you’re appealing Mr Yigga”
    he said down to me
    with sarcastic look in his eye
    â€œagainst sentence severity
    Well, I’m real sorry son
    I see no solid grounds
    and for this fundamental reason
    your appeal is stood down”

    As they led me away
    I thought “here I go”
    at last this is it
    I’m hitting the toe
    One cop had hold of me
    by the left arm
    his grip was relaxed
    and he seemed to be calm
    The other copper walked
    a few feet ahead
    suddenly I broke the grasp
    and for freedom I fled

    They pursued my elusive body
    straight out the front door
    shouting “Stop you crazy bastard
    in the name of the law!”
    Into the court carpark
    bending low I flew
    trying to think clearly
    of what I must do
    A half dozen angry manatj
    fell in on my trail
    but my stamina was ready
    through exercise in jail
    â€œStop that dangerous man!”
    the manatj yelled out
    to the curious citizens
    frozen by their shout
    But I was through the park
    and entering the street
    Two exhausted coppers gave in
    I had now four to beat
    â€œGo like the wind bro!”
    a Noongah 9 kid yelled to me
    â€œSpring like the Bungarra 10
    if you want