The love of private profits, Of punitive crackdowns. Of broken hearts and spirits In all Australian towns. Strongmen with flawed agendas, Blue ties and silver spoons. We know just how they see us: Cheap labour for tycoons.
Poetry
The Man From Point Piper
There was movement in the nation, for the word had passed around That the dolt whom all regret was led astray, And had joined the wild right-wingers - he was worth a million pound, So all the banks had gathered to the fray.
Not Quite Hitler, Part I
Tiny finger on the button, Often acting the buffoon, And behaving like a glutton Or perhaps a shaved baboon. With a face of dried out mutton, Wears a rug, or dead racoon. Golden showers, prostitution, His salacious, shrivelled worm. Active proof of devolution, Can make any woman squirm. A new Russian revolution May occur in … Continue reading Not Quite Hitler, Part I
Little Donald
Spewing hatred from his vulgar sump. There’s a man in the House we should dump. Ranting and raving while on the stump, A new life in the House; Forrest Gump. Weak, sad, little loser; rather plump. Smallest man in the House; tufted clump. Incestuous Orwellian chump. Predator of the House; gormless lump. With six bankruptcies filed, … Continue reading Little Donald
My Country, His Team
I love a sunburnt country, One hotter by the day, Where science is an option, For coal is here to stay. I love her metadata, The bigots and their rights, Her children in detention, Our captain’s calls and knights. First Gonski was defunded, Then paid parental leave, Health was soon to discover, The cut it … Continue reading My Country, His Team
Daniel MacBride and His Noisy Backside
Once lived a boy named Daniel MacBride, And he found it funny to pass wind inside. “Oh Daniel, that’s filthy,” his teacher would chide. “Why can you not take your gases outside?” At home, his parents had tried and had tried, But he would not listen, young Daniel MacBride. “I like it, it’s funny” he … Continue reading Daniel MacBride and His Noisy Backside
