Doing this issue on Perth was difficult. It called for me to face a future so dark and grim I could barely see the light at the end of tunnel.
A future talented and useless, beautiful and broke;
A future slow to fruition if there is a future at all, warning you that there are NO JOBS ON A DEAD PLANET
A western state of skyscrapers and office blocks,
an industry of mines,
a greedy insatiable monster
pilfering diamonds of the north, clutching at air as if it were money
with a city growing like a sub urban disease in sprawling and confused directions,
a one way street looping on itself
an idiocy grid.
If you’re here, if you’re anywhere at all, it’s boom or bust
So you live in a boomtown, but are you a boomtown rat?
Slowly pushed out, you’ll be pushed out too
Because the sand you stand on doesnt belong to you
It belongs to the Queen, you see. We Are brushed over, indifferent
Mining for attention
Seeking superficial glamour like moths to a flame
Neglected like a child sulking in the corner, 2 million dollar Ferris wheels sit idle on their shame
A tower tolls and shatters its spine for a monarchy one only reads about in tabloids
But it’s not so bad I guess. The city is clean and bright when the sun shines and it rocks in the summer, we have nothing to complain about right? The best beaches…we have friends and family and lots of stuff we make happen. it’s not the places we have, as lord knows we haven’t enough, it’s the people that make this city. There you go EPRA: here lies our global brand.
Perth has old rotting fruit tween’ no pillars of strength
controlled by old rotting minds, no pennies for pockets barely any for rent
Fascist rules state no standing whilst drinking
No late nights to trade in
No daylight savings
So say they: “Well at least the curtains aren’t fading!”
That the “cows can’t sleep”, that they “don’t know how to count sheep”
And that we need the skills to know how for we don’t have the skills to trade in
Mining since the 70’s
and we couldn’t foresee training
need foreign workers, need foreign investors and well fuck it lets just sell the whole country…
While the beast booms gluttonous and all consuming
The mouths you feed are for your own children
Get a real job
We’re playing Mozart on xylophones made from our anorexic ribs
We sweatshop our wares and barter our cares
In some dysmorphic utopia you call Home
Only broken promises for space while the liberty sits empty…
The café’s in Northbridge shut at 5, and we tend to frequent the same places
Forget there’s a world out there,
Ignore, delusion, deny
Live in a bubble:
We are snails, shelled and slow.
Ah yes the humanity
We are all creative creatures
We are all ego and coke
With ideas in the moon, we are dreamers
And our future looks dim with reality building the horizon.
What future, tall flower, is this? Staring us in the face
Leave now- you must flee!
Like fleas to a dog fulfil history!
A destiny we know well Perfians
Take that boat! Melbourne, O’erseas!
For a pat on the back is all you get for what you believe
And a block in Meadow Springs is all you’ll afford
No more natural products from the earth,
No more green, no more weed
You’ll put ice to your head for the bored ache
Only alive to die nine to five
or return every two weeks to drink til you’re sick at both ends
A western civility….a corporeal privilege!
I lovehate you
You’re nothing but a tease
and if I was a guy and you were a girl I’d say you were fucking with me.
I’d say grow up, get honest, take initiative, grab life by the balls and squeeze! But is this idealistic? Mere fantasy?
The quality of life is so high and it comes at its price
A cosmos semi-infinite, more vulnerable than the eye can see, is lost and dead as a cost of living.