The Wok

Poem By Scott Mcdonald

Into the Wok I drive tonight
Down into the heart of the balmy city
As I drive a voice comes on the radio and says:
'The Wok has been crowned food capital of the North Coast'

Afterwards, I reflect on what the radio announcer said
I have just finished a meal of snapper and prawns
I resolve that the Wok should be crowned 'food paradise'
That should become law

Comments about The Wok

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

2,0 out of 5
3 total ratings

Other poems of MCDONALD

Bending Over

Some one is bending over and copping it badly.
They know who they are.
They are a disgrace.
They are poor writers.


I wandered outside and heard the waves crashing
I heard the suicide of water and earth
I wandered with arms outstretched
And collided with the Bunya pine

The Laneway

Down the laneway I took you
You wanted sex
I wanted you
We copulated on the bitumen


I stand in speckled light
The shade is uncompromising this time of year
I hear children laughing and playing
Their voices become cheerful echoes in the