West Wyalong

I spent five years of my life (into early teenage years) living in a country town called West Wyalong. It is located in the Shire of Bland :) I returned there as a recently-minted architect & was stunned by the buildings that were there. Not bland at all. Some seemed straight out of a Wes Anderson movie.

My favourite place was always the swimming pool so I also wrote a poem about it…

The steel entry gate so hard to push,

With my skinny boy arms

Toasted dry by mid-December sun.

 Into the grounds of the pool

Within a town,

That falls away to the deep end.

 We kick towels for loose change,

Candy bracelets, Paddle Pops and cigarettes,

Black & Whites are 45 cents.

While Mr Hughes promenades bare-chested

Along the edges and the fence,

And we are poorer within an hour.

 Blooming girls with no interest in adult affairs,

Dangle their laughing legs in the water,

Touching off our fervent and fear.

 And the Ewing girl looks like the blonde one from Abba,

I drool for her amongst the smell of the sausage rolls,

Or better still, a Kerridge meat pie.