Dec 6, 2014

Sawtooth Poem #18

Poem by: Luke Wren Reid
Inspired by: Sentimental Blokes by Shannon Field (TAS)
28 November - 20 December 2014
Middle Gallery, Sawtooth ARI
Photograph by Mel de Ruyter 

These tortured wooden statues
With baby blue eyes

Were not born
They were carved from the cunt

Bound to it
By the purple yoke

In remembrance
We choke the cord between our legs

Though it never breaks
We stand like carved statues
With baby blue eyes

And wait like convicts in bondage
Bound to cruelty
Until all pleasure is guilty

The original boat people toiling in camps
Waiting for the father to see us

It was purple yoke, the umbilical noose
The furious violent cable
The ever extending Colonial erection

That brought us

Our dreamtime serpent has but one colour
Though it lies breathing in our bloodlines

The arterial coil
The knot in the guts of every colonial man
Forever rusts

Until we honour
The sacred connection to the Medean mother
We are toiling in a foreign womb
Not yet born

Surrogate children without skill to love her
Wounded men
Building bodies like barges

Tortured wooden statues
With baby blue eyes