Exile Town : Alice Springs

EXILE TOWN


Alice Springs is
Full of folk running,
Running from anywhere else

A population in drift
From southern suburb and neurosis
Or anywhere to the self-import of

This contained desert hub,
This hub of a great wheel
That deals out power.

Magnetised in, toward
A Great Centralian Desert grief,
As if the need was for filing

More Iron-clad papers
Of the great Bureaucracy
That shopfronts itself as balm.

Balm and bliss where its people
Rally together in transplanted
Attitude like canny mercenaries

Bought in to quell
Their own restless hearts
With gun opportunity...

The gun range of opportunity
They too-readily spreadsheet into
And too-easily fill

As one fills
Emptying supermarket shelves
Of their needs

As transshipped goods
Would be B-double trucked
To the moon.