Politics As Usual
Poem By David SmithWhite
The world was shocked and grieving,
late Twenty Zero One.
A mood of paranoia,
and fear of what may come,
led the the powers that shaped opinion
to fix the public mind
against the desperate refugees.
No succour would they find.
The Minister was Ruddock,
John Howard's blue-eyed boy
Some thought him opportunist
for the angles he'd employ.
He called them queue jumpers,
illegals and much worse,
and relied on talk-back demagogues
to spread the news, perverse.
With increasing xenophobia,
the shock jocks went to work.
Troubling the bubbling suburbs:
the racist tones of jerks
Appeals for calm and tolerance
would only fuel the deep unease,
the longing to keep the status quo.
No calls for change appeased.
Of course, the Opposition,
was out-foxed and confused.
It had lost it's social principles,
and took no stand of use.
When the Coalition won the election,
there were few that were surprised.
A worried herd of base instinct
might shut down to survive!
For Australia has a history,
but it lives in self-denial.
The stolen generations
rebuke our winning style.
We smiled at 'relaxed and comfortable',
now we drink the poisoned vial.
A besieged, distrustful traversty,
of this once gentle isle.