The Grunter Hunter
- A burning sun sent down its rays, sizzling the sand.
- Up till noon, this day just seemed like another on the land.
- But then a cloud of dust flew up, and hooning around the corner
- Came a beaten, dented, rusted truck with tires even worner.
- The truck pulled up with skidding sounds outside our yard’s front gate.
- Out stepped the burly driver, a guy who took the cake.
- His big beer gut sagged low and far below his big frayed belt.
- His pants were baggy with holes to match. His face covered in welts.
- A floppy hat drooped off his head over thin, red hair.
- His faded shirt was patched so much, it basically wasn’t there.
- He hollered a din, till Dad came out from working in the shed.
- My Border Collie, Toby, followed, tilting a curious head.
- “Oy, mate, you got any pigs around ‘ere? ‘Cause if you do, I’m the guy to call.
- I can fix ’em with me gun and silence ’em once and for all.”
- “We’ve got no pigs around here,” Dad said, “and if we did, I wouldn’t let you
- Come in here and shoot them with your guns and attitude.”
- “Oh, look ‘ere, mate. I ain’t a bad bloke! I’ll shoot your pigs and then get on out!
- Come on! Listen, I’ll not do no harm. Could this face really lie?”
- Toby whined and looked at Dad. He didn’t like this guy.
- The pigger waved at Toby, “Scoot, skidaddle, ski’die.”
- But Toby did not move at all, so the man talked back at Dad
- That he was the best pigger that this whole country had.
- Toby was getting sick of this – this smelly, mad egghead.
- So he crept up close behind him, and let it flow on his leg.
- For quite a time, the man didn’t notice anything.
- But perhaps it set him off when his trousers began to cling.
- And then we noticed that he quickly looked down
- And saw a yellow puddle, saw the urine on the ground.
- “Dang you, you dastard devil dog, you mangy mongrel mutt!
- You’re the worst whining, whinging woof that God above dreamed up.
- Get back here, you hellish hound! I’ll show you a thing or two!
- When I came, this gun was meant for pigs, but now it’s for you.”
- The Grunter Hunter yelled his curse. Toby barked and fled away
- While the pigger, with his now wet leg, drove off swearing all the way.
About the Poet:
In 2008 Chelsea Just was a 13 year-old girl from a cattle property in Barcaldine in Queensland’s central-west. Chelsea, who studies via long distance education was supposed to write a ballad for her English class and then perform it to someone. Since there was no-one on the cattle property she could perform it to but her family, she went to the local trials of the Australian National Poetry Slam in Barcaldine.
Chelsea won in the local trials and and continued competing, making it to the Queensland Poetry Slam state final in Brisbane where she came in second. This won her a free trip to Sydney in December to compete in the national finals at Sydney Opera House.
In December, 2008, Chelsea represented Queensland as one of 18 finalists from an original group of 600 poets in the 2008 Australian National Poetry Slam competition. She continued to perform her “The Grunter Hunter” throughout the competition. Chelsea did not win, but plans to continue to write poetry and perform. [DES-03/18]