A party someplace, down in the dirt

With her blouse undone and a hand up her skirt

She lays, her body compliant as clay

And softly her mind drifts to thoughts of decay.

His thoughts, to delay, are on Kevin Rudd

His thrusts push her further into the mud.

She thinks: undressed, every boy is just the same;

Her heart aches with you don’t even know my name.

But he’s done, murmuring allegories into her ear

So she sits up and swallows the rest of her beer.