the front

the front
thirty young
red flags
march Murray st
to shout
absent truths
beyond
the suburbs
their parents
Sunday afternoon
lawns
and polity
now the
revolutionary cadre
of weekend rallies
and glossed
hyperbole
sixty new sneakers
shuffling for
someone's freedom
standing there
I could not
help but
see it absurd
and what does it
say of
five thousand
years dispossessed
Gaza or Balga
evicted and
shot
and what does this
say of my
friends
dispossessed of
mind
stumbling half
drunk
anxious violent
boredom lust
smoking and
drinking
away our moments
together
and last
night
after the
Maori stole
from my
brother
and the cops
came to
assault the
assaulted
you could
not help
but cry
history folding
in on itself
the sadness
in all
things
oceans
between us


Raymond Grenfell (Western Australia)
First published on Raymond's blog An attempt at humanity through attempted poetry?