A mirth of stories
Of the 560 stories on this website we've got nearly 30 stories that we've listed under 'Humour', kicking off with this year's jazz poems from Bill Arnott and then delving deep into our back catalogue.
GEE BILLY. Spoken-word-jazz-poem by BILL ARNOTT
she would go about her way, tending to everyone while Billy and his bandmates they would jam and stray but always they’d come home to stay
THE STORY OF CLARENCE by BILL ARNOTT
You see Clarence wore an old “Lou” reed like a bamboo cravat and a fine felt suit of ebony the colour of half the keys on a honkytonk piano named Hank
THE BEST OF WITCHES WART. Mark O’Flynn
Unheard music is sweeter. A tongue-in-cheek look at the language of music reviews.
… AND THE BASSMAN PLAYS. Words by Bill Arnott. Music by Michael Averill
Flashback to the sixties, people living in the cities you got beatniks crossed with hippies sporting horizontal stripes and small goatees play a jazzy, minor chord, learn to smoke, renounce the lord
GOING TO CALIFORNIA. Poem by Bill Arnott
day one and two Zep II, day three and four Zep IV, four sticks/ the ciggie slim-jims keeping company with Bonham fills of tom-tom
GROOVE by Bill Arnott
headlights splay across a country roadway/ single lane both ways in groovy groovin’ grooves/ to the smooth, smooth sound of billie holiday
THE RIVER by BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN & THE E STREET BAND Story by Jane Leonard
We used to walk back to his house from South Yarra Station with our vinyl school bags slung over our shoulders. When we got to the top of the hill on the Domain Road corner, we’d turn onto Punt Road and head down towards the Yarra. But we never went all the way down to the river.
SWEET DREAMS (ARE MADE OF THIS) by THE EURYTHMICS Confession by Andy Griffiths
Karaoke? Disco? I hate karaoke and disco about as much I hate, well, The Eurythmics. (Did I mention that I hate The Eurythmics?)
SILENT PASSAGE by MARLON WILLIAMS Story by Jock Serong
Carpenter became a recluse: first painting houses, then studying to become a Buddhist monk. He drifted between cities during those lost years, buffeted by unknown storms.