Times ain’t what they used to be
I remember the good ole days
When boy scouts helped old women across the street
And a neighborhood was still a community
Whatever happened to the youth of today?
Spoilt and rotten
Bad eggs
The produce of a society gone sour
What about those good ole days
Way back when?
The good ole days in ’72?
When human beings they called Charlie
Were napalmed and his family too
The good ole days 1945?
Sixty million dead
And only the lucky survived
Or the good ole days in 1349?
When Black Death rode his skeleton horse
Surely that was the happiest of times?
Whatever happened to the youth of today?
The drink and the drugs
The gangs and the thugs
It was much better in the good ole days
Or so they say
What about those good ole days
Way back when?
The good ole days when Romans ruled?
And the ‘civilized’ fed human beings called Christians to lions
And the crowds roared
The good ole days when Muldoon had a job?
When he liked to think big
And kick out human beings they called FOBs
The good ole days when the poll tax was in place?
To keep out the human beings they called chinks
And save us from the yellow peril
What about those good ole days
Way back when?
The good ole days when human beings they called niggers were hung up in trees?
For being the wrong colour
In the wrong country
The good ole days when only half of the population could vote?
When women knew their place
And did as they were told
The good ole days when human beings they called faggots were beaten?
For daring to be different
Colour is not tolerated in this beige world
Well I’ll tell you about the good ole days
The good ole days were never here
They are nothing but the one eyed memories of those who came from privilege
Who grew up on the right side of the fence
And those who would rather forget
Our forgetfulness is our downfall
We are cursed to repeat the same mistakes
We will never learn
The future of humanity
Is written in last years newspapers
Oyster catchers trot away like sheep
Their old tired backs bent and shoulders hunched
Wrapped in a jet black shawl
Even on beautiful days braced against the perpetual storm
The little blue penguin lies in state
No one to pay their respects
Except the tiny mites that knock on her eyelids
Shouting “Let me in! Let me in!”
“Let me feed on your sweet rotting flesh”
The sand dunes collapse at the sight of me
I congratulate myself at my powers of persuasion
And I move on
The waves tease my feet
“Come closer” they say
And so I do
And so they send a big wave
That wets me to my knees
I know how this game works
But sometimes it’s more fun to be naive
I poke at big piece of bull kelp
A thousand sandhoppers jump
For joy or fearing for their lives
I wish them all the best as they
Jump to find a good mate
Or something wholesome to eat
Or somewhere to rest their weary heads for a while
For they know the meaning of life
Those three things
And don’t let any fool tell you otherwise
I pass a dead red-beaked gull
It’s head raw flesh
Partly devoured by black flies
Who lay the eggs of the next generation
Life and death are never far apart
At the river mouth
A harem of sparrows tell each other about their day
They flit between dead bush lupins
While the Agave america watch on
Their giant spears of seed
Stabbing at the sky
The lagoon looks void of life at first
But rewards come to those who wait
Tiny shrimp dart about in the shallows
And juvenile fish dart amongst the shrimp
The whelks quietly go about their business
Continuously rasping from one day to the next
A light breeze teases
There are no zephyrs in these parts
No one to tell them
How they’re supposed to live
The tides rise and fall
With my footsteps
I walk and I think
And I know
It is all holy
The letters on the page
Are just bones for my words
Billboard frames
Scaffolding
I hang meaning
Like flesh and blood
Bold scenes with brush
I paint words
I wear my uniform
But I am multiheaded
A beast
I identify
And are identified
But it only means so much
Certain bars
And certain people
Won't let me in
That's why my chosen uniform
Is useful
It detects arseholes
I've got a real job
But I haven't had a real haircut
In ten years
Multiheaded beast
Medusa
Chameleon
Be real
Always be real
Accept
Embrace
Exist
Those that want you to change
Feel uncomfortable with themselves
Because if they truly loved themselves
They wouldn't care
The leeches
The vampires
The small minded fucks
Want you to feel
Small
Useless
Pathetic
Weak
All they want is company
So wear your uniform
Without a trace of dogma
And exist
As a diverse life
As someone unique
As a human being
