What do you think you’re bloody well doing?
It’s obscene. Let’s stop this monster exploding
right now.
Its glass throws up a sharp and cutting light
you know, colossal columns and monuments
and Money
to Remember Them.

We do remember them
wonderful old men
smelling like vinegar and gingernuts
crumbling alone
I’m fed up to the back teeth
with your expensive soup.
Just give those old soldiers a fork to eat it with
why don’t you
give them giant stylised poppies
columns quarried from red Australian stone,
ANZAC-ed right out of Ayers Rock

Warehouse and Woolworths, your fonts bigger
than diggers on your biscuits and tins
you make me sick.

Commemoration. Stop taking that drug
it’s bad for your heart:
politicians, corporations, institutions
your antiquated house of remembrance
is stubborn, you blue-arsed flies.
You weren’t even in 3 pin nappies.
What’s wrong with a poppy made out of paper
pinned on your suit and a bugler?