They Get On Your Wik

Wik, a word spoken quick
and in just the right way
to promote a long held insecuirty

every pastoralist quakes at mere
milennarian mumblings of Mabo

revisiting the sink-holes of 
the sick, sorry deeds clenched in 
   white fists
      their hands open to the yen,

greetings to the same old world as before,
petulance takes a razor to its wrist,
at any mention of justice

A pale putrescence pouts forth,
seaping across the airwaves,
front pages and tv screens.

A child unwilling to fairly share
brings forth a tumult of temper to cloud
the issue, the giving of a fair go
forgotten in a fusilade of frowning
shouting and handwringing.

it's wasn't us, it was all so long ago,
it's about bloody time they shut up
and thanked us for bringing them
into the twentieth century

Drowning in a sea of sharp reaction
like little wind-up soldiers they go
on with Progress, on with white lies
their certainty delivered by their self-promoting
comfortable and relaxed morality 

it's about time we forgot!

how can you forget
what you don't want to remember?