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Bargrearse

By February 5, 2018The City

By Grant Palmer

My name is Bargearse,
Death made me homeless,
My head is full of shit.

Every night for 17 years,
Dreaming of shit,
The shit of death.

A shitty tropical town and angry Jesus,
The shit that comes from BBQ’d children who
prayed,
Splattered brains leaving me deep in the shit.

Jesus who wanted to kill me,
Was he the Jesus of the BBQ’d kids,
The family on the moped now know if Jesus is
real.

Miranda wouldn’t listen,
Two others tried but couldn’t,
But none of them understood my shit.

Alone was best,
Drinking and smoking away my shit,
Angrier and more isolated each night.

A Graduate Of Duntroon
Shelldrake,
A Superintendent in the mines.

“Dont run you’ll panic the troops”,
Not any more,
There was nowhere to run.

$5 a clean skin, $15 a night,
Smokes at $20 a pack,
Killing myself slowly on $35 a day.

Driving my car over a cliff,
Just like the road to Alieu,
How fast does my Prado go?

Ashamed of being a GOD,
Shelldrake long gone,
Superintendent no longer.

I had my shit though
There every night,
Death would be welcome.

Finally it snaps,
GP didn’t get it,
I was lucky someone else did.

Sent down to the nut farm
“You’ve got PTSD,”
Says the nut farmer named Pete.

“No shit” my response,
Thanks Jesus,
And I no longer have a home

My big sister packs up,
Red letters and phone calls each day,
$300 a fortnight means I cant pay.

My home now the nut farm,
Confined with the door left wide open,
Just in case of self harm.

Inedible food,
It’s full of crazy people
Just like me, all dealing with our shit.

The nut farm’s my home,
Confused,
Angry.

I knew what to do when confronted with death,
BBQ’d bodies, angry Jesus,
Brain splattered rock.

Homeless and powerless.
I don’t know what to do,
The Nut Farm social worker knows jack shit.

Homeless people are a States problem,
The Commonwealth sent me to war,
DVA does nothing except offer to pay part of
the rent.

If you can get somewhere to rent,
$300 a fortnight,
Fuck all chance of that.

Couch surfing at a friends place,
She couldn’t handle my shit,
So she threw me out.

The RSL, $350 million in the bank,
A nursing home in Sydney,
Is the best they can do.

It was something I know,
Whilst Don paid his mortgage with that cash,
So fuck homeless veterans

State Government forms
I can’t do words any more,
So how do I fill in those forms

It is a five year wait,
Maybe you can try to get private rental,
Yep! On $300 a week?

But you can help fund the Supercars,
Take envelopes from developers,
And pretend to run a mine.

Vets before refugees
I was homeless before refugees hit the
headlines,
Where were you then?

You ignore us just like we don’t exist,
Yes, I am angry,
With a head full of death and shit.