Potato picker AI version by Peter Pentland is a fast-moving comic bush yarn about an old farmer whose leap into artificial intelligence turns his paddock into a disaster zone.
Flying spuds, ruined chooks, shattered fences and one relentless machine make for a wonderfully exaggerated warning about modern technology—and the value of reading the instructions.
Potato picker AI version
By Peter Pentland
Well, I’m just an old-time farmer and that’s how I should have stayed
For I’ve ventured to be modern and oh God how I’ve paid
It only took a few beers with the local tractor dealer
And I became the owner of a potato picker and peeler.
It had artificial intelligence and laser gizmos left and right
But when I tried it in my paddock I nearly died of fright
Oh, it dug up my spuds alright but it didn’t stop there
For it threw my flaming praties half a mile into the air.
Well strewth I thought and grimaced for I was dumbfounded like
For a heavy hail of potatoes does make an awful sight
To see them at their highest you’d need a telescopic lens
But when they landed on my chook shed it was curtains for my hens.
As I was standing there, shedding tears for scrambled eggs
I realised the machine was after me and like quick smart stirred my pegs
I tore off to the homestead with the monster at my heels
Lasers flashing through the air and dust flying from the wheels.
I tore around the dunny and straight up the garden path
And the digger chasing after cut my septic tank in half (What a shit storm that was!)
I ran along a picket fence; a thing I shouldn’t have done
Because it fired the pickets at me like a javelin Gatling gun.
I saw no point in loitering where it could wreck my house
So I raced out in the open, first time I showed some nous
I headed for a pine tree that in the paddock stood
When the sawdust cleared it was Tetris firewood.
Now it happened that a hardwood tree a Jarrah stood nearby
It was my last remaining hope so behind it I did fly
I held my breath and said a prayer and I dared not look behind
I thought that my number was up when I heard that awful grind.
Well, my farm looked like a cyclone’d hit from the damage that was done
Rhododendrons chooks and fences it hadn’t spared a one,
But that afternoon I must admit I laughed and danced with glee
To see the wreckage of the machine smouldering halfway up that tree.
The problem was all in the code
I’d run it in evil mode
There wouldn’t have been all this destruction
If I’d only bothered to read the instruction.
Keeping The Verse Alive
Potato picker AI version is shared with permission from Peter Pentland 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.
Peter Pentland
Bush Poet • Folk Performer • Storyteller • Comedian • Broadcaster
Peter Pentland, known on stage as Hayseed, performs traditional-style songs and bush poetry rooted in farm and bush life across South-Eastern Australia. His long career has taken him through folk festivals, stand-up comedy, radio and television, while his stories and recordings keep rural Australian characters and humour alive.
Poems, recitals, photographs, stories and original works remain the property of their original creator and are shared by Country Campfire with permission.
