My task is to kiss the land
My love my soul
Roam and hunt with my band
Of blacks
Whilst forever
The kangaroo fears your white skin
But will stand in my shadow
With a crocodile
Behind any anthill

When the land swallows your white arse
You will call me as you have always done
The blacktracker

Heatwaves are bandwidths to my freedom
Out here
Where I talk to the spirits
Where I feel my aboriginality
Where I am the guardian of all
That is really Australian

A
White death knell
Our sacred interior
Our black space

No technology
No water
And
No Blackman skills
You will take your chance without me

My land tells me all I need to know
And has done for forty thousand years
So I ask
What have you brought to this land
That would make me change my mind
Or
My Aboriginal purpose