a verse for the cheated
growing up on the southern fringe of the Sunshine Coast
we often heard adults rambling on about the local economy
and saw the bright plumage and wealth of tourists
those who came with an odd hunger for visitation
and soon left as tourists
some who copped the brunt of our youthful grievances
those buying postcards of pristine beaches
that were nowhere near us
and purchasing painted coral stolen from hundreds of miles away
and branded with the tag, MADE IN TAIWAN,
they arrived in their brand-new cars that sparkled
upon a strip of bitumen that we regarded as a petulant beast,
a highway that carried some of us away
forever
young and unaware of the finality of death
its greedy black claws lubricated on the nectar of broken dreams
my mate who had his licence for only a week
...the sister of a friend on a casual drive home
...an academic in the senior class, the world at her fingertips
...another mate taken on a motorbike
and a friend who ended up as a plaything for the monster
pulled from the wreckage screaming, fed on painkillers and nightmares
all of this and the tourists taking photos of the roadside crosses
thinking how fortunate and cool we kids looked in this haven
how carefree it must be approaching adulthood on the Sunshine Coast,
and the recalcitrant animal
prepared to deliver us on our future paths of success
and to pick a few off on our way