to what earth we’re heir

I see you bub
covered in bruises and cuts
wrestling with angels
who are demons
protectors who are keepers

I know self-loathing
sails in from time to time
as you try to catch
echoes try to catch air

and the strange estrangement
bloodletting a trail
of birth certificates
a trail of death
certificates
no trace
of birth or death
but a mention
on mission registers
unspeakable skeletons
defleshed in the closets
of god-fearing forefathers
spreading the good word
across this burnt continent

it is what it is
to live another day
with the blak slapped out of us
with white whispers
telling you to host dirty little secrets
we were bred to fester
in our heart

shoot us for dead
then absorption
convince us to forget
who we are

bear the wound hard
clear-headed
full of fire my love
Unlearn the master’s mantras
learn what happened
here to whom

bleed for scar trees
expose your vulnerability
your mask uncoming done
i’ll hold you

because true-god our truth
hurts it burns to the last
embers of your life
but it’s worth if you’re willing
to let the lucky country die

and in that death
you’ll find
wattle flood the street
we engender our own bodies
take care of the weak
without worrying
about survival
our birthright

yes bub
the day will come
when we claim
what earth we’re heir
and holiday on country
on the ruins of parliament house
and our ancestors sleep sound
home in skycamp