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The Internet As Habitat

Suck
Suck

NARCISSOIDS

they drink your whine
surreptitious
needy
arseholes
faking
sliming
controlling
squeezing
spitting pips
you’re all sucked up
weighed by vacuum
balance of power
on their side
found wanting
your surfeit of trust
shallowed you
bathed you
trophied you
away they slither
remorseless
remoras
all bravado
and bag of tricks

February 2015

FACEBOOK IS DOWN

Oh noeeees, millions of peeps collectively frown,
what will they do while Facebook is down!
No cute cats or kids or political scrums
how empty the lives of deprived Facebook bums!
Was it those cunning lizards sent by Icke
To confound us all with reptilian tricks?
Or chemtrails seeping slyly into the server
To poison us with conspiratorial fervour,
Bah, ’twas just a blip, a crack in the stack
Sneer and cheer, tweeps, for Facebook is back!

February 2015

HORIZONTAL IS GOOD

Who can breathe?
the poseurs squeeze hard
blame others’egos
project personal ambition
their insecurities
dreams of conquest
multitasking
insights
dreary phds
publications
publishers
glorious leftist careers
push competition aside
top down squash and mash
the revolution as steamroller
party over people
principles for bullying
because some dead man said so
who’d vote for these freaks
who call one ‘liberal’
at whisper of dissent?
vicariously policing
what’s left of the left
they don’t see the wank in their own eyes
who can breathe beneath such fuckery
full communism?
full of themselves
not my communism
who in their left mind would want it?
who can breathe?

February 2015

Invasion Day 2015

Australian Settler Coat of Arms

Acknowledging white settler supremacist destruction of Indigenous people and habitat. It is telling that the white settler Abbott rewards Prince Phillip when there are millions of Australians who deserve an award before him. What has Prince Phillip ever done for Australians except cost us money?

#JeSuisWanker

Why is it that the utter wanker
casts opprobrium like an anchor,
weighing on unwary minds,
what makes the wanker so unkind?

Are they bitter, untimely ripped
from cold mother’s sullen tit,
or revisiting rage they often felt
with vicious father’s lashing belt?

Around the net they prance and rant
and none can trump their pious cant
or measure up to righteous gall
the world’s an ass, they know it all.

Backstabbers, zionists, liberals, preachers,
dictators, imperialists, loathsome creatures,
racists, conservatives, merchant bankers,
a howling horde of complete wankers.

January 2015

The Three Rings of Hell Downunder

first,
i wrote because it felt like singing
without music, even if only
i heard the unsung tune
yet Quadrant had CIA instructions
to keep their sacred staid tomes
cleansed of profane experiments,
these rebellions of mine –
still i versed, a contrary Australian.

then,
i found no royalties were due to
the spoken word unless it had a tune
a musician I’d be to live by art alone
sneaking in poems like thieves
at the start of raucous sets
while composers of minimalist scrapings
would earn a decent crust –
still i versed, lest words rust.

finally,
the Grabbits cut through the ABC
and what do they dump first? it’s poetry
for Poetica has died upon the vine
what is left to placate my mind
all is accompaniment to this thirst
and all have forgotten what came first,
the subtle taste of language’s dream –
still i verse, and curse the regime.

January 2015