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A Study In Bronze

I’ve unfurled the Southern Cross tonight and put it
On the wall, and as I gazed the longest while.. I thought I heard the
dingo’s call?  It couldn’t be as all
Round me were the sounds of London going down'
Then I thought again of scenes that had
Made my forehead frown, rows of blue
Police ensued…’bout Sydneysiders Free
We’re all of them of unworthy Ken? Real
Dingoes one and all?  Well so it seems
Today; this way to be, yet 
Trawling deep, down way down; in my memory'
I remember well the NSW country cops and
City police on point duty, their white gloves
And doves; amid Melbourne hub, bub and parks; the stately trees
they were hard enough men
Yet fairer; truer then'  than this lot oh
I’m in pain to see. Led by other dingoes on
The prowl in a great country… where all
Should ‘get a go’ I know.  Every ‘Blue to
Blind Freddie’ from Tassies spot up to
Ayers Rock, Newcastle to Albany.
They’re a devious lot, this closet mob
Behind a screen of decency, they point
Out ‘unclean people’ and just who 
Will own to dirt?  Not them for some
They’ll just ‘give it the gun’ so more statistics
It’s bound to be ‘as on the margins of truth they flirt’ we can see that no
Doubt’   they’ve come up from Monash halls or Adelaide uni
And yet; they’re overawed I see' they’ve just at Europe’s beck
And call, mouthing I once met a Sorbonner; mumbling Shakespeare
In their sleep. They're following a mantra maybe; to prove their quality?
Thinking, now watch the Aussies lock it down, I reckon they’ll have
Locked the lot, each gate, each cupboard door maybe even
Padlocking the locks? (Bless their cotton socks) oh they’ll not be
Seen as  larrakins or the world might look at them poor…!
Patterson of the banjo fame, has no part of their desire, they’ve never rode
The paddock long or fed an outback fire.
Value Henry Lawson?
You’ll find there no incent' they couldn’t stack
A wall of mallee roots, these gutless bloody wonders, so
Give them all the heavy boot; from Cairns right down.
To Melbourne Town.
Awake and face the truth, you’ve got the
Will, you’ve got the groove from lawyers
To publicans, so get behind your truckies
That kept you on the move; in the spirit of
Green dog Stevens.  I hear he’s now back in the news' he made the
Stand at Razorback
He was a sharp one too, the country’s not colonial now it’s full of seasoned crews who
Can organize with drive; run commerce reason and thrive; the
Stockade is in the past, so now stand fast!
Don’t subordinate your days, it’s up to you
See it though and make it stay that way.  Sing out to all your
Cobbers, pilots, judges, cockys and police, WHO will have their (orders coming in) but are they true?  If they are; then they’ll come good; and through.
Close ranks round the big brown land
Shut the courts, all sea and airports to
Take the country in hand; remember
Your roots recall your truth’s and turn off the media stew; there is 
Better sense listening to..

Crow on a barbed wire fence.

And of those who took the jab as told? What
Of those trusting ones? Don’t exclude them
In any way – They’re Australia’s Daughters and Sons!


©Joe Maverick 19-9-2021

Copyright © Joe Maverick

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