I received a funny email from a senior female

Colleague, who saw him at a conference, back in twenty-two

He “consulted” when we knew him so I sent the link on to him

To the web page that I Googled: Clancy-dot-com-dot-a-u


A reply came in quite quickly; it was terse and fairly prickly

I believe that it was written with sarcastic bile to vent

As his sometime girlfriend sent it – really – I could not invent it

“Clancy’s partying in Europe and I’m stuck here with the rent”


I can contemplate a vision, where I see with some precision

Clancy lurking at the Bierfest where the carefree Aussies go

As more beer the barmaid’s bringing, Clancy drunkenly is singing

Backpacking has its pleasures nine-to-fivers do not know


Yes, his drinking mates all meet him, and their raucous voices greet him

In the terraces, piazzas, chanting “Aussie! Oy Oy Oy!”

And the time he has is splendid in this party that’s extended

From the pubs of Western Ireland to the lands of ancient Troy


So I sit at my work station, lost in random contemplation

Of a lifetime slowly passing in the suburbs and career

In my office, air-conditioned, driven by career ambition

For the mortgage, credit, interest rates I sell my soul so dear


And instead of Santorini’s golden women in bikinis

My gaze is blurring slowly on the suits of beige and grey

Youthful hope all but deleted as the minutes are repeated,

And the hours slowly drag until release at end of day


Workplace rhetoric mind-numbing and the deadlines keep on coming

While substance counts for less than superficial outward gloss

My best years that I am giving; isn’t life meant for the living?

Is it just my midlife crisis? Do I really hate the boss?


I’m reminded of the fancy that I’d like to swap with Clancy

To take a turn at loafing by Amalfi’s azure blue

While he dealt with emails, faxes, meetings, politics and taxes

I’d vanish to the world of Clancy-dot-com-dot-a-u