Of these hours and days
of the minutes not adding up
of the garbage going up the hill, our garbage
of that kind of epiphany, so ordinary, the mix of food and fish and the decomposing flavour of life on and
off with this dangerous government
of Australians
of the times that will hold our accounts
of those who break houses and execute trees
of those who rob the tongues of children
of comanchero boys filled with flail and hurtle
of a deficiency that fights itself
of an o so average victory
of creating duress with commands and errors - that one belongs not here
of controls and dishonor with fists of newspaper and the uniform effect which ignites layers
of this unreal war making its mistakes
of its cowards who fear peace and skin in the sun

for whom the hour has come - us protect us
not simply of Sydney


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