Of white privilege;
Brained by the Big Easy
And gorged on an ocean view
The great Aussie lifestyle
Humidifies, rotisseries ‘til your
Dermis is pork-crackling
Innards, a secret stew.
Pumped up
With insulation
To buffer the heat and spill
Of a bigger world.
Buoyant, you
Jog that petite arse off
On a freeway of
Earplugged mime artists.
This is everyday.
Your feet on the path
Where you left them,
Your mind set loose on a wave.
But the same remains;
The same abyss-mal fact always
Remains.
Off a flat earth country
Of wide insouciant days
You will fall.
By choice and fate
You were shored up
And will be
Dumped by the sure.
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