A reasonable person couldn’t
Deny it is invasion day
History speaks of this truth,
And since nobody disputes that
It is a day for everyone,
If you are outraged by the change of day,
You are speaking for white privilege.
Sunday, 26 January 2020
Sunday, 19 January 2020
Patriots
Patriots
Simple fools
Waving national flags
In place of intelligent discussion.
Patriots
The deplorables
Who escaped the baskets
To bore us all with their narrow vision.
Patriots
Generally, part of the deluded religious
Who think God and country
Are the same thing.
Patriots
Those of us who are
Usually lacking in opportunity
Who cling to clichés, devoid of thought.
Patriots
Those who were scared
By their parent’s poverty of ideas
Making up for it ever since by being cunts.
Patriots
People who think an over developed
Sense of country, makes up for
All other disappointments in life.
Patriots
People who don't generally
Understand the power
Of healthy scepticism.
Patriots
Someone who doesn't usually
Realise their mother was
A woman rather than a saint.
Patriots
Who have so little imagination
The only thing they can think to revere
Is the dirt under their feet.
Patriots
So unworldly
They have little understanding
That it is people and not continent there is to admire.
Patriots
Misguided fools
Getting Southern Cross Tattoos
Like they mean something profound.
Monday, 13 January 2020
We Will Never Meet Again
No dress rehearsal
life is short, with diminishing returns.
You finally make it to 20,
the long morning of youth.
Suddenly, you are fifty,
the short afternoon of middle age.
Then you are dead,
the twilight of old age.
There are no refunds.
We will never meet again.
Friday, 10 January 2020
The Day My Dad Died [after I read Raymond Carver]
October. I was going to pick you up every day from hospital
But every day you told me to call again tomorrow.
I saw you Monday, at least, when you told me that you loved me, unexpectedly
As I walked out the door and I responded, “I loved you too,” to an empty hall.
I desperately wanted to go back and replay that moment, but it had passed.
Thursday, you put the doctor on the phone
And she talked about palliative care,
After which you asked if I understood, but I didn’t understand.
Mum didn’t understand either.
She just wanted to get you home and feed you good food.
Two hours later, another doctor rang,
Saying we should come quickly,
Before it was too late. We were stunned.
I had to get my brother off the baseball field,
He didn’t understand either, but he came.
I called my sister, she had just arrived home,
An hour away, and she asked me if I was sure.
It was fair to say she didn’t understand either,
She was a little cross, suspecting I was being dramatic, I think,
But she said she would come too.
My Mother, brother and I got to the hospital an hour later,
We walked the silent corridors of the hospital to my father’s ward,
Stopped by a nurse who asked who we’d come to see.
Our father and husband. I’m so sorry the nurse started,
but he passed away an hour ago. We stood there unable to understand.
My mother wanted to see him, so my brother went with her.
I went downstairs to meet my sister, who’d be along soon.
She wanted to know who we could talk to, who we could consult.
I held her and said nobody, it was too late for that.
We went upstairs. I went into see dad with my sister.
And there he was, his face yellow, his mouth set in a frown,
Half open as if to let us imagine him taking his final breath.
We stood there in silence, there was nothing left to say.
I kiss his forehead and was shocked that it was cold.
He had left the building, an hour before we go there to say goodbye.
I went downstairs to get air, and call my other half, and to cry.
My uncle and auntie came along, having been told to come,
I told my father’s brother that he’d died, he inhaled and stiffened
I wasn’t sure if that was my role, but what choice did I have.
We all waited in the waiting room trying to understand,
what else was there to do.
But every day you told me to call again tomorrow.
I saw you Monday, at least, when you told me that you loved me, unexpectedly
As I walked out the door and I responded, “I loved you too,” to an empty hall.
I desperately wanted to go back and replay that moment, but it had passed.
Thursday, you put the doctor on the phone
And she talked about palliative care,
After which you asked if I understood, but I didn’t understand.
Mum didn’t understand either.
She just wanted to get you home and feed you good food.
Two hours later, another doctor rang,
Saying we should come quickly,
Before it was too late. We were stunned.
I had to get my brother off the baseball field,
He didn’t understand either, but he came.
I called my sister, she had just arrived home,
An hour away, and she asked me if I was sure.
It was fair to say she didn’t understand either,
She was a little cross, suspecting I was being dramatic, I think,
But she said she would come too.
My Mother, brother and I got to the hospital an hour later,
We walked the silent corridors of the hospital to my father’s ward,
Stopped by a nurse who asked who we’d come to see.
Our father and husband. I’m so sorry the nurse started,
but he passed away an hour ago. We stood there unable to understand.
My mother wanted to see him, so my brother went with her.
I went downstairs to meet my sister, who’d be along soon.
She wanted to know who we could talk to, who we could consult.
I held her and said nobody, it was too late for that.
We went upstairs. I went into see dad with my sister.
And there he was, his face yellow, his mouth set in a frown,
Half open as if to let us imagine him taking his final breath.
We stood there in silence, there was nothing left to say.
I kiss his forehead and was shocked that it was cold.
He had left the building, an hour before we go there to say goodbye.
I went downstairs to get air, and call my other half, and to cry.
My uncle and auntie came along, having been told to come,
I told my father’s brother that he’d died, he inhaled and stiffened
I wasn’t sure if that was my role, but what choice did I have.
We all waited in the waiting room trying to understand,
what else was there to do.
Wednesday, 1 January 2020
Bush Fire
Cla clink, cla clink,
a D9 Dozer,
appeared through the smoke haze,
running a bare earth fire break
down along the fence line
slowing the bush fire down,
and all we had left were spot fires.
We all breathed easier.
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