Bloody well doing

1 August 2015

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?

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Marty Smith

About Marty Smith


Marty Smith grew up on a steep hill country farm in North Wairarapa with weather terrible enough to make tough going for one man and his kids. One of the narrative strands of her poems is her father’s war with almost everything; the other is the world of horse racing and the strangeness of creatures that ride on top of each other. Her poems have been published in Best New Zealand Poems 2009 and 2011, and in the anthology Best of Best New Zealand Poems. The manuscript for her debut collection Horse with hat was short-listed for the 2011 Kathleen Grattan Award.

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