I’m going to do investigative journalism via charades 

It is really good idea

Because let’s face it 

An elephants arse from space 

Can see 

Everything you write 

Even if you in your mind

Camouflaged what you were to ask


I wonder 

If they know 

It is sort of sad 

That no-one really cares 

That no-one even raises the issue 


Surveillance so you cannot do your job 

I mean 


Imagine if Silicon Valley 

Could not operate computers 


That is sort of what it is like 

Because they will know what you will ask


You do 


What are you going to do about it? 

I mean,  is the ABC really going to say

That the computers 

Are protected? 


I mean, what can people do to encrypt 

Their information 

And be notified when a government 

Has violated it? 


This is technology

You would engage in

If you were serious about the citizen right to know


Although let’s be frank 

There will always be a way 

For someone to pretend that they are 

A voice of democratic rights 

When in fact

They are just monitoring those 

That really believe


And that 


Really pisses me off 



You’re still a phoney bastard 

If you’re being paid 

To be phoney. 

It’s not like 

You are exonerated 

From stupidity. 




Albania had an earthquake



I wonder whether it has anything to do

With the base? 




Bloody hell

Having to fight for everyone’s right 

Is a bastard pain 

I am so suited 

To a daytime TV show 


I’d get my teeth done

Worry about my veins 

Pick the colour sequins 

Instagram my day 

Have lunch with a powerbroker 

Tell no-one about my tradey on the side 

Hit up a Premiere 

And go gliding near my

Yacht called ‘Velvet Munch’


Make time for a 

Evening swim at Whale Beach and sit there 

Listening to night-time sounds 

The Kooka reminding me 

Of humanity’s lot 



They’ve fucking ear marked me 

For the Virgin Maryann 

Bunch of 





Oh give it break 

If you were serious about using 

All the bastard technology of government 

You’d make everyone’s life


So full of shit. 




Oh good one Jacqui. 

You’re not going to tell us 

What deal you will do with the government 

Bloody legend

Between you and Pauline 

You gotta wonder. 




What would be the problem 

With giving some bastard some

Health assistance? 

Who are you people? 



The placenta three 

Are running the joint 

It’s like the back of the room in Year Six 

They plot 

While we play


They look like a Ron Mueck sculpture 

But those appear 

To be human. 






Grow a penis

Yours looked small 

Even in the 

Petri dish.