Almanac Poetry: What’s Bart Got?
The Cups King Bart Cummings the great Bart Cummings
gazing out from under wild eyebrows, winning
the race that stops a whole nation twelve times
one for each hole in an egg carton
On the television they ask Bart for his
secret to winning all them Melbourne Cups
The trick is to see exactly what’s in front of your eyes
then he turns away, no need to make things up
The journos say he’s blessed with the eye
he sees the makings in the foal at foot
long arms short cannons well put together
head that’s pretty, getting the bob on the line
On the first Tuesday in November
the siren sounds ten minutes before the race starts
on the concrete factory floor in Pagewood
the workers down tools pad out stand frozen
in front of small tvs and loud speakers
No need to read the form to watch the odds
to make things up – they ask: what’s Cummings got?
What’s Bart got? See his jockey let go at the clock
towering over them at the furlong…
quick run, here they come
come and see:
Light Fingers, Think Big, Think Big again, Rogan Josh, Saintly, Gold and Black, Red Handed, Hyperno, Kingston Rule, Lets Elope, Viewed, and Galillee – from a long way back
What’s Cummings got, no need to make things up
What’s Bart Cummings got
one more hole for one more egg for one more cup
What’s the thing that Bart’s got
that we have not.
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