Campaigning by sound bites. This poem is as relevant as ever.
I have no patience for your lies; no tolerance for your excuses.
I’m hot and getting hotter.
I have no patience for your greenwashing, nor tolerance for your mistreatment.
Unlike you, I am not profiting from your grubby mistakes.
I have no faith in made-up economic benefits, when you use my scarce clean water to pollute and fracture.
And those in the vicinity, literally eat my dust every single day.
I have no patience for your promises of financial riches and jobs, jobs, jobs for digging ditches.
Now that robots can replace them, the only jobs left are ‘for the boys’.
I have no patience for the supposed miracle of trickle-down economics, nor tolerance for royalties frittered surreptitiously away.
For when all is said and done, you just stick your filthy snout in the taxpayer’s pocket.
And when it all goes pear-shaped, do you compensate and remediate?
Oh no, you merely shut up shop and cry poor.
I have no patience for your same-old same-old platitudes or excuses.
So off you go. Just piss off.
Author’s Note: The weather was unpleasant yesterday. It was hot, dry and blowing a gale. The sky turned a dirty grey colour and the dust obscured the surrounding hills. Further to the south, our Victorian friends were faced with raging bushfires and property was lost. Our town suffered from a massive bushfire in 2003. I was speaking to a lady I met in passing yesterday. She thought the whole trauma of that day was embedded in the collective psyche of the city. She’s probably right. Throughout the day, we waited. For the wind to calm and the skies to clear? For some impending disaster? Who knows. Don’t mention climate change…
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