Maralinga
Maralinga, Maralinga,
where the white mans fire still burns,
Where atomic radiation made the little creatures squirm,
Where walked old Nooran Gurra with the Emu fella dance,
Where the bloody fire an brimstone didn't give em any chance,
bloody radiation, awful fire of death still burns,
An his bone are bleaching whiter,
Has his spirit come to terms,
Not bloody likely,
So they give us Maralinga,
So linger longer, yes we can,
Does luekemia point the finger,
If we live upon the land.?
?? Don
yes by crikey, death and sand...
Maralinga was just one of the 1950s, British, 12 atomic blast sites, before the radiation blew to the four corners of Australia giving us the sweet subtle strontium 90 in the cows milk off the radioactive grass that the cows did eat. And the geigher counter service guy couldn't stop the counter working franticly cos the radioactive rain was falling in Brisbane in 1955...
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment