The debates, the discussions, the proposals and humdrum,
A world-famous beach and its carpark conundrum.
Build it ABOVE GROUND, came a councillor’s motion
But why an above ground? Just swim in the ocean.
Well UNDER GROUND, then, is the perfect solution,
Until ice caps melt from car-borne pollution.
Warn us, they did, that cars would start floating
As suburbs like Bondi kept bulging and bloating.
So, HOME GROUND, said locals, with spots just for us,
While those labelled ‘other’ must cram on the bus.
Or HOME GROUND for athletes, so guts they can bust,
While their current home ground turns to rubble and dust.
Waratahs, Roosters, Sky Blues and Swans
Can be sheltered alongside those striving for tons.
An UNDER ARM carpark, for those for whom laws,
Are as easily tampered with as red leather balls.
The voices grew louder, with yet more ideas,
And echoed the sound of the changing of gears.
Why, UNDER COVER, and be it constructed with stealth,
To protect all our cherished assertions of wealth.
Or INBOUND, cried tourists, enjoying their trip,
Without us, who else will get caught in the rip?
But, OUTBOUND is better, for serving the function
Of keeping the Westies holed up at the Junction.
Be OUTGROWN it will, as more residents arrive,
And through poor public planning they are all forced to drive.
Thus, INGROWN, the carpark pierced through the thin
Perfectly sculpted, tanned Bondi skin.
The longer debated, the deeper it burrowed,
Incessant dull pain causing brows to be furrowed.
It gnawed at locals and pollies alike,
But is rendered redundant with the push of a bike.
So, while pushers of pens kept on talking and talking,
A solution was found, and the answer was…walking.