Hounded by running dogs,
chased by capitalist roaders,
pursued by Coca-cola communists,
every wary of paper tigers -
I flee into the dark recesses of my own mind.
Tormented by images of Howard's
greatest share-owning democracy
and Tim Fisher's
stereotypical family -
I sneak away.
Only to find Harradine's
right to lifers want to kill me
yet would deny me voluntary euthanasia.
Unable to reconcile myself
to a reconciliation process:
which bridges Hindmarsh,
mines Jabaluka,
attacks indigenous beliefs,
ensures Blacks die young, and
disproportionately jails Aborigines-
I take refuge in rejection and revolt.
I will stand along side:
the alienated youth of inner cities,
the poor of the sprawling suburbs,
the aged neglected in dilapidated nursing homes,
the prisoner in solitary confinement,
the mentally ill who've been decarcerated,
those with intellectual disability who been marginalised,
the recently arrived migrant without financial security,
the rejected refugee attempting to stay deportation,
the unemployed who pay the real price of economic efficiency,
in fact, all the victims of neglect and repression in my country.
Then maybe on the 100th anniversary of the signing
of the International Treaty of Human Rights
all will have the right to -
eat enough to maintain health,
have enough work to give meaning,
be educated,
live without fear of attack,
be free to assemble, and
be free to think -
even to think those thoughts
the State would prefer would never occur to us.