Poetry - The Lonely Planet Guide to Samantha F.

I tried to find The Lonely Planet Guide to Samantha F.
I tried a bookshop on Brunswick St
The State library, and Woolworth’s

They all sent me packing

I searched the Lonely Planet website
But it was almost as if
They’d never heard of you

So I hit a bar
praying to Allah to just make my brain shut up
but it didn’t work
and I just kept imagining
all the detailed maps of your Newtownian torso
that I was missing out on

the full colour guide to your
panda eyes and Mediterranean thighs

a dozen things to do in a single day
Maneuvering your subway

And countless other lists of great spots to see
on the under-explored parts of your pretty person

Not to mention where to sleep,
eat and play on a limited budget

and when I asked the barman
if he knew any facts for the canny traveler
of Irish Sicilian violinists from Inner Western Sydney
he took offence
and attacked me with it

short of breath
I hid in the public library
and asked if they had perhaps
The Complete Idiots Guide To Seducing Samantha F.

“”Piss off pervert,”” said the kindly old spinster at the desk

so I went to a kebab palace and requested
The Beginners Guide to Sam’s Multifaceted Psyche

“”Lamb yeeros or asto thealo re vlaka”’

the search was getting hopeless,
so I bought the burnt baby sheep meat
ripped it apart, and attempted to read it

but once again the old Greco got angry
and I split, my dour hands dripping in tatziki

I was angry now as I stormed across to Footscray
And kicked down the doors to Lonely Planet Head Quarters

Quickly cornering the elderly founder
And demanding an explanation as to why he hadn’t commissioned a guide to you
As I casually threatened him with the remains of my gyros

Eventually he stuttered that
“”Perhaps YOU should write it then?””
before collapsing in a pool of lamb fat and tears

Hence this letter
requesting a visa
to explore the backwaters of your bella figura
you can pick me up from the airport on Monday
don’t forget to bring a couple of beers.