Hansen is a leper
Morrison means black
Palmer means a pilgrim
Shorten just gets smaller
How they chop and hack
The Canberra fat bellies
Trotter in their troughs
Dual with knife and fork
Over our old southern bones
Dragging steel combs
Through the scaberous
Pelt of the dying bush.
Flushing out the huddled
Weeping over their
last children’s tiny deaths
Mines like ulcers
Canker land life.
Springs trickle and weep no more.
Burning effluvium
Waste the sky of it’s choir
Rivers run with rotting fish
But the island banks run with gold.
Come on!
If you’ll have a go
We’ll give you a pavement
To sleep on.
Come on!
Raise your hand to Heaven,
And get a sucker punch
In the guts or a
Bullet or a bomb
Or your children gone.
Come on!
Vote for me
This is the lucky country
Best that money can buy.
Skullthorpe's Blog 