Coming soon to a local park / race track / footy field / beach near you: Australia Day. You can tell by all of the people walking around dressed in Australian flags. Otherwise, you might not know that it is Australia Day, or that you are in Australia. And you wouldn’t want to make a mistake about that, there could be consequences. I still remember when Australia Day was a dusty little public holiday tucked away towards the back of the summer pack, hey a day off, thank you very much. Now it is a thing. Not unlike a sad party thing. So here is my yearly offering, an alleged poem, for Australia Day. There you go, get some culture into ya, ya bastard. Clear your plate, there’s plenty more. Now once more, with feeling …
It was Flag Day
so we wrapped ourselves in our flags
and went to the pub.
Everybody else had the same idea, but.
All the flags were the same
because we are all Flaglanders.
It would have been nice to wrap myself
in the flag of difference
but I was too scared.
Everyone looked the same.
The fun idea had become
A Sad Party Thing.
It doesn’t matter.
The flag unites us.
Our fear of looking different unites us.
All eyes are wary on Flag Day.
Everyone smiles with their mouths
as they lift their beers,
but all those eyes are looking about.
And those eyes are quick.
You don’t want to stand out.
Not on Flag Day.
There are no excuses.
It is not “I pay my taxes” day.
It is not “I am a human being, I have rights” day.
It is fucking Flag Day.
You sad party thing.