CHRIS TSE
Golden shovel for shit-stirrers
If you want a patriotic poem with inspiring lines that ignore the
weeping wounds of our colonial past & portrays government
ministers as cultural heroes, you’ve come to the wrong ode. This is
a golden shovel for the shit-stirrrers among us, constantly moving
their lips but saying nothing of value, one hand thrust into
the grotty pockets of tobacco industry hijackers, another
waving an assault rifle in the name of freedom. These budget-
brand bullies pulling old tricks from dusty playbooks, a cycle
we’ve fought before. Here they go again, attacking art &
imagination. Here they go again, thinking empty threats will
put us in our place. Go Goliath, give us nothing. Art will be
celebrated while you’re left going through the motions looking
for another poem to offend you. You hold your burning torches to
metaphors & cower at every image that forces you to make
peace with your thin skin & thick skulls. How are you spending
your time in power? Calling out genocide or pouring salt in cuts
you’ve inflicted? Keep digging, your heels firmly planted. Scream at
the trees because they’ve been there longer. Make your low-value
gestures towards progress; make us believe your departments
support you. Those backed into a corner know how to get creative
with confrontation. Art will portray another side of New Zealand,
the one where hubris is a fast-track to downfall & power is
a currency to be spent responsibly. We are all continuing
a shared story, planting words & ideas to feed the future, to
create possibility in these days of unrelenting crises. Tempt
the megalomaniacs – let them know the true meaning of fate.