Once upon a time I had a poem published in Quadrant. It was the first and only poem I have ever submitted - just as the 1st novel I submitted was published. I didn't pursue either path: maybe I felt I had had my share of fortune, or maybe it's the fact that I am just not ambitious.
I actually remember little of the poem, - and, don't seem to have a copy - except for the title "Takeaway Soulfood", which the then editor, Les Murray, rejected and replaced. Dear Les: I've always been so fond of him: a man with a profound, light and loving touch on the landscape; a kindly, bitter, poignant view of us, including himself.
This small poem was written because I found Europe to be crass, immensely materialistic, aggressively competitive, and blood soaked.
This is not a popular opinion.
Myth is, that despite the multimillions of their fellow Europeans that they have slaughtered in less than 100 years, that Europe is a source of reason and culture.
Myth is, that despite the cruel and depraved male and church dominated history of the last few hundred years, that Europe is a centre of reason and culture.
These are not myths that I subscribe to.