Open Writing

He was a typical truckie, in navy blue singlet and shorts
Loved a stubbie, the pokies at Cooma, and followed a couple of sports.
His rig was a twenty-two wheeler – travelling mainly inter-state,
Didn’t spend much time at home, with no life-long female mate.

His meals were mostly at truck-stops, fish and chips or an underdone steak,
At Balranald, Tamworth, or Yamba – sometimes a hamburger to take.
Then a mate said “Be like spin bowler Warnie and go for a can of baked beans,
Just heat them up on the truck motor – full of protein, no need for greens.

Cans of beans at the next supermarket – the size about three-eighty gram,
Chose the ones he thought were the sweetest – beans processed with sugar-cured ham.
Tins were placed in a box on the semi, for his next long-haul on the road.
That evening came a call on his mobile – he had to head off to Perth with a load.

Next morning, first thing to Mildara, his rig half loaded with wine,
Then dried fruit to make up the remainder, loaded up ‘neath the Angas Park sign.
Mid morning then seen his departure, as he pointed his truck to the west,
Thinking, when I get to the Nullaboor I’ll put my beans heating-up to the test.

To Ceduna, the trip uneventful, hunger pains and no truck-stops in sight,
‘Twas time to heat up a can of beans, so he took out a tin in the night.
He carefully placed the un-opened can where he reckoned ‘twould be OK to heat,
But his mate hadn’t told him how far to drive till beans were just right to eat.

So he estimated a half hour or fifty Ks on the speedo of his truck
Then he’d be able to have his meal, warmed up with a little bit of luck.
As the headlights shone out before him, and lulled by the motor’s drone’
Getting near the required distance, when he got a call on his mobile phone.

An agent called to give him a message of a big load to come back from Perth,
With descriptions of the load to be carried, and of course how much it was worth.
Conversation took just on ten minutes – put the mobile in its pouch there to hang
As his thoughts again turned to hunger, from the motor came an unusual bang.

He pulled up and lifted the bonnet, with a torch saw a terrible mess,
An exploded can had shed all the beans, and the fan blades helped spread them I guess.
Juice dripped off the injector pump, he said “What a sight to behold!”
Then to satisfy his hunger that night another can came out – eaten cold.

For months the mess stayed on the truck – no water to wash it that night’
Baked on with the heat like enamel – the engine looked a terrible sight.
So now when travelling and needing a snack – no longer looks for baked beans,
He carries a box of dry Sao biscuits and a few tins of oily sardines.