Sitting on a park bench is my choice
I am a tired man
A very tired man
A black man
Whites have exhausted my ability to explain myself

And

The bottle in a brown paper bag

An automatic association
A bottle in a brown paper bag and a black man
Equals the truth

Or does it

My white friend drank there last night

He has left you a Whiteman’s perception
That I am a perfect fit
A
Drunk on a bench with a bottle in a brown paper bag

Must be aboriginal

In beating sun then rocky shade
Little black kids
Little white kids
Sunburnt kids
Muddy kids
And dogs
In an outback waterhole
With sun cream slicks and zinc cream whirls
There’s a painting on the water

White man passed the bottle my way
And
I would enjoy his great past time equally

I would succumb just like him

A black drunk is no less obvious than a white one
Except in a white town
Just as a white drunk would be more obvious
In a black place

The demon drink does that
It creates monsters of men

All colours
All creeds

In all lands

The bottle is a god
At times oft

Bigger than Jesus

For a man with little faith
Who has lost all?
Including land and children and family

Yep
I’m black and I drink

I follow white man dreaming
To my despair

Sorry day has been and gone

Never forgotten

The stolen generation still weep

Forever

White man failed all black kids
All black mums and dads

He ignored black culture

Destroying black families

Heartless white masters ruled mercilessly
In
Unrecognised sovereign states
Rent free
On borrowed time on borrowed land

Today
Is a time for blacks in their homeland?

To collect the rent
Two hundred and Forty years overdue

Cross my path in any town
Down any street
My black skin will attract you
I’m sure

Do not walk wide of me
Do not cross the street
Pass me with a smile or a hello
Or
Give me a nod

If all hell breaks loose in your mind
And you become unsure
Then remember my friend

Like you I am human
And as black as I am

Just a wink will do

And
I ponder

Is black skin

All we have left

Is it the only remnant?
Feature perhaps

Of our distant past

Of Australia of Australis of Gondwana

Have you not finally broken us?
And
Killed our culture diluted our true blood
But for a few desert dwellers

Tried to bleach us with white love

Is not our black skin fading
As you would wish

Is genocide the winner?
At last you say with a smile

The results of our white wash
Are coming through

All around me prejudice creeps
Through my black skin
I feel it
And
I shiver at the thought
My white brothers are lost in hatred

I walked every footstep of every city
Before them
It was my kingdom
My blackness blended so well back then
With land and animal

My employment was hunting
And
Feeding my family
Burning the land preserving waterways
Hunting and gathering was not my only skill
A sense of family reigned

We entertained we regaled we taught the children

You came
You conquered an ancient and defenceless race
You
Raped and pillaged
Stripped the land bare for profit
You murdered us and took our children

You disgraced yourself

That was your black prejudice at will
Still alive and well today

Come the day we will attack
We will avenge our ancestors
Whites will die at the end of a hard day
We will rule

Blacks will invade and form governments
And
Councils
We will take land
Rape your white women
And
Take pleasure in
Stealing your children

We will ration your sugar and flour
You will ponder your future like lost souls
And most of all you will cry and swear revenge
For what we have done to you

We will piss on your life
We will hate you with a passion
We will introduce you to alcohol and drugs
And make you be aboriginal

Come the end of the day we will reflect

And care not

The years have gone now
Not sure what sorry can do
For
Us boys

Abused
Lonely

Not just black
Black and blue

So who loved us?
Then

Who watched the watcher?
As he made love to me
And
Lusted over my young body

We climbed through windows
We ran away
Criminals

Just
For being black and stolen

Blacks
Beautiful inside
Fear out
Always a difference
And
Playing a racial card

Whites
Beautiful inside
Dominance out
Never a difference
And
Playing a trump card

Black and white
Nothing inside
Doubt out
Mistrust the difference
And
Open misere

An excuse that

Somehow colour is different