THE LOCAL RAG.

THE LOCAL RAG.

Nothing much happens in my quiet little town,
But it's local news here. I'll jot a bit down.
I'll read a few headlines and make the odd quote,
From things in the paper today, that I note.

Front page is the weather. It's been raining you see,
And roads are all blocked, and the ones that are free
Are dotted with potholes and Citiwork gangs
Work out in the rain to fill them again.

The boats in the harbour are all covered with oil,
Owners used solvents to clean off the spoil.
Maritime Safety inspected the scene
But have no idea how sludge got there, it seems.

Page 4 has a bit of good news for a change,
The Veteran Affairs mob has announced a new range
Of benefits to diggers, retired from positions
To receive now, for free, sunglasses -- Transitions.

Mobile phones are addictive, it says so right here.
(Tell me something I don't know, Editor, dear).
The average phone user makes three calls a day
And thirty-five minutes of texting to say --

"Hi" to their friends, or "Get food for the cat",
And it tells of the panic if your battery runs flat:
Or you leave your phone somewhere, (perish the thought!)
Whatever did we do before mobiles were bought?

There's a Psychic Expo in a Flinder's Mall pub.
And help for young mothers who have just had a bub.
The Town Choir received a cheque for the bill
For making a CD of the songs that they trill.

There are ads for all tradesmen and rain water tanks,
"How to lose weight", I need that one -- Thanks!
The Perc Tucker Gallery is displaying new art,
(He was Mayor of our town once, gave the Gallery it's start.

There's a whole lift-out section on cars and some housing,
That all are for buying or selling or just browsing.
The comics and crosswords are included for light
entertainment, if there's nothing on TV tonight.

There's community clippings, to tell me what's going,
Tai-chi and Bingo and plants that are growing.
Learn to play Mahjong, Line dancing I see,
There's a Writer's Group, hey, now that might suit me!

There's a new baby born, proud parents do boast,
And a photo of two who've been married the most
number of years, and a sad little poem,
Remembering a loved one who'll never come home.

Something of interest for all in our papers,
But only for locals and our region's capers.
It's our town, our paper, and our news you see,
Might not interest you, but it means something to me.