Image for post
Image for post
Illustration by Caitlin Johnstone

As the gum tree stands in defiance
of the bushfire raging by,
as the crone stands in defiance
of death’s hand day by day,
as the world stands in defiance
of poetic attempts to apprehend it,
I will stand,
O my sisters,
I will stand.

I will stand with you facing cannons,
Saudi oil wizards,
the red-eyed spy machines in our homes,
and the gargoyles in black suits.

I will stand with you facing cyborgs in riot gear,
the crooked knives of the Bank Boys,
Hollywood child eaters with tentacle teeth,
and the scoffing smileyface news platoon.

There’s a morning star,
and the call of a strange gull
that labcoats had assured us was extinct.

There’s a pulse in our planet only we can hear,
and it braces our legs as we stand.

Let them move their pieces into place on the board
with their clumsy metallic fingers.

Let them assemble their howling hordes on the field
with their crude crayon drawings of what they think we are.

A woman made of moons is rising from the Earth
and she will stand with us,
she will stand.


I write about the end of illusions.

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