Guzzunder Blunder by Ron Boughton is a rowdy comic bush yarn about a scruffy outback couple, a backyard still and a most unfortunate use for the household guzzunders.
Set in a dilapidated scrub town under a stormy sky, it builds from bad smells and local frustration to an explosive mishap and an unlikely tourist attraction.
Guzzunder Blunder
By Ron Boughton
©Ron Boughton. July ’22.
Somewhere out in the scrub, in a dilapidated town
Where mostly all the residents would often wear a frown
When if they happened to pass old Jeb and his missus Nell
Their nostrils were savaged by a most offensive smell!
For Jeb and Nell on average only washed about once a year
Plus being mean and ornery, they’d cuss and spit and sneer!
And gums were sorta’ green, where long ago teeth had once been!
Resulting nothing less …than halitosis, quite obscene!
B.O. they raised above the norm’! Even the dunny man
Had cause to take offence, and refused to collect their pan!
But this didn’t worry Jeb because their rough as guts old shack
Was on the edge of town with an old mine shaft at the back!
The dunny now was obsolete, and guzzunders were the go,
With contents pitched down the shaft each couple of days or so!
This suited Jeb, for all the cruel agony he recalls,
when resident dunny redbacks …would bite him on the b-lls!
The council aldermen declared their presence did detract,
From any tourist dollars to the town they might attract!
So of these putrid yokels, they could quietly be rid,
It would, at least for all the town, be worth a million quid!
But nothing seemed to come to mind, no answer previous,
That is without the townsfolk being dodgy devious!
But liberation was at hand that filled all hearts with glee,
And quite unexpectedly, the guzzunders held the key!
With hygiene non-existent, being averse to the tub,
They’d long been barred, from both, the local Pub and Bowling Club!
So Jeb then built a still and brewed a wicked rotgut booze,
That totally addled the brain and just a nip would rot your shoes!
But trouble brewed one stormy night when lightning hit the still
And all that evil liquor then came gushing in a spill!
A frantic stricken Jeb, so desperate to save his brew!
Filled any containers found, including …guzzunders too!
He stuck them back beside the bed, to bottle sometime soon,
But guzzling remnants of the spill, his brain passed in a swoon!
He crashed out on the bed and all intentions disappeared,
Then Nell came in with candle light, and on her face …she speared!
She’d slipped on slops those guzzunders dropped when they’d overflowed,
Then as flame from the candle dropped, oh boy! did they explode!
And then the still and grog went up in one almighty blast!
That blew the filthy hut and contents skywards …ultrafast!
For the townsfolk who’d witnessed, the fireworks that stormy night
And saw the forms of Jeb and Nell there blasting out of sight!
Would say St. Peter, smartly sent a really strong downdraft,
As their cart-wheeling corpses vanished down the old mine shaft,
Earth moving dozers quickly, pushed the hut’s remains down too
Then concrete plants worked overtime and capped that mine ensue!
And now! The town is prosperous, as tourists flock to see!
The giant guzzunder statue …where a mine shaft used to be!
Keeping The Verse Alive
Guzzunder Blunder is shared with permission from Ron Boughton through Keeping The Verse Alive, Country Campfire’s bush poetry preservation project.
By preserving poems like this, we’re helping ensure the stories, humour and characters of country Australia continue to be enjoyed for generations to come.
Ron Boughton
Bush Poet • Reciter • Retired Bricklayer • Motorcyclist
Ron Boughton is a Blue Mountains bush poet and reciter whose life has been shaped by family, more than 50 years in bricklaying and many years exploring Australia by motorcycle. He enjoys capturing the character of bush life through rhyme and metre while continuing to discover the history of country towns.
Poems, recitals, photographs, stories and original works remain the property of their original creator and are shared by Country Campfire with permission.
