Society draft #1

To the nation that I fall in place for, I would like you to know

I do not want your money in it's masses

I do not want your capitalism in our esteemed towers

I do not want your student's revolutions

I do not want in its entirety your rent

I do not want your rich giving me money nor your poor asking for it

I do not want your energy drinks or healthy fast food or cow skin rugs

I do not want your vegan attitude nor your 12-pound steaks

I do not want your promise of love with every pretty girl that walks around your corners

I do not want your cars that crash into our busses and run over our children

I do not want to be left alone frozen in a glistening paddock of ice

I do not want to walk a thousand kilometers to find your greener grasses

I do not want you to meet me in a truck cabin, feet bleeding and face beaming for adventure

I do not want to ruin your precious works of art on my brown coffee

I do not want to find your smoke butts in the drains as a trample on them, smoking

I do not want your sexual revolution slapped in my face

I do not want your lack of imagination slapped in theirs

I do not want your vacant lots of concrete nor your fields of shade thrown by heavenly towers of glass

I do not want your jobs in their infinite godlike powers to give me and you and your mother; wealth, ass and brain searing life.

In the wealth of my eternal love and infinite depression I know to be standing anywhere is to be standing in you now, our hands in marriage with room to move but such a room made of mirrored walls -- no where to go. In Melbourne tonight we are each other sitting in my room on your streets spitting venom at passers by as they wave their blind eye in disgust of you, me. Forgive our sins against you to make you who you are, to identify ourselves within your eternal caring grace, holding ME up when YOU see me at my weakest and knowing in wise civilisation to throw me down to the earth from whence I came if I were to ever out grow our ring. Hand in marriage I will not leave you Melbourne, not when you need me most.

I drink to you tonight and day, an eternal silent toast to your silent numbers and I--hidden numbers, my neighbours their children and their growing numbers; for your fields will become their homes their paved streets and their nature is at last yours and ours

and it will provide as you, I need

and it will take as you, I need

and it will offer glasses for our blind as you, I need

and it will clad our FEET in leather of cows-animals so that we may walk our thousand kilometers to find our paddock to lay in, watching the sun provided as a gateway to our heaven as you, I need

and it will care for our sick as you, I need

and it will bare our feet on your blue stone walkways so that we may meet our love at every corner as you, I need

and it will defy us in nature to make us grow together in holy matrimony as you, I need

Forgive me, forgive yourself Compton, Bethlehem, Istanbul, Tokyo, Sydney, Berlin and London as we walk together from fields of earth into streets of marble and plastic together as lovers grown old we will remember and lament our cold days spent so that we may touch the stars together,