Outrage Sunday 252 Barrack Street

As I walked busily down Barrack Street
Talking on my phone, vital things to do
Thinking of what to say and who to meet
I noticed a man who’s legs were askew.

People surged, looked away, and stepped around
Four blokes were pushing and shoving, swearing
No-one was fussed by this man on the ground
His jeans were down; there was only staring.

I couldn’t feel a pulse, his skin was cold
I called an ambo and hoped for the best
Others joined in and started being bold
Then a paramedic looked at his chest.

He was bundled up and taken away
I could resume with my important day.IMG_4163

This entry was posted in Uncategorisable Worsts, Worst poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

27 Responses to Outrage Sunday 252 Barrack Street

  1. Rolly says:

    Portrait of a Young ‘Clubber’ as an Old Man.

    Like

  2. Zuben says:

    Homelessness is a human cost of urban ‘ vibrancy ‘ .

    Paradoxically urban and inner suburban ‘ consolidation ‘ with the stated policy intent of accommodating an increasing urban population actually is linked with putting more people out in the streets .

    In the overdeveloping eastern cities of Melbourne and Sydney the incidence of urban homeless has doubled in past two years .

    Let’s hope the phone call in the poem was not about a JDAP review of a nonconforming DA for a residential mixed use redevelopment project .

    Like

  3. Colin says:

    Looks like Troy has lost a few kilos.

    Like

  4. Anonymous says:

    Just another day in WA.

    Like

  5. Reign of Error says:

    Worst

    Like

  6. orbea says:

    Worst. Cannibalising worst.

    Like

  7. Frank Wer says:

    A fine, some might say ‘Wintonesque’ sonnet on the paradox of being alone, yet in the midst of hordes of people.

    Like

    • NF#1 says:

      At first I thought the text here to be a riff on Auden’s ‘As I Walked Out One Evening” (As I walked out one evening / Walking down Bristol Street / The crowds upon the pavement / Were fields of harvest wheat), just as DC often employs William Carlos William’s ‘The Red Wheelbarrow’ to similar effect. Then I went, huh? Crap scansion aside, it’s clearly a sonnet, unlike Auden’s poem, and quite naturally has an almost completely different structure and sense. Moreover, it has very little to do with Winton. That’s not to say I don’t like it. Anyhow, DC, your secret is safe with me.

      Like

      • rottobloggo says:

        One day I’ll win an award for poor scansion! I started playing with Blake’s London, but then thought ‘Bugger that’, and dashed off a poor but original work.

        Like

  8. The atheist says:

    There are those that through no fault of their own, end up in this position. The mentally ill, the victims of abuse, the genuinely disadvantaged. They deserve nothing but care and respect. I am happy to attend to those patients all day ( and night ) long.
    HOWEVER. I am deeply, deeply tired of the lazy, the professional victim, the partied too and too long(oh, heroin is addictive, I didn’t know that), the bored housewife, the gee my dad hit me once, and all the other dopey fuckers who made bad choices and now expect me to scoop their shit covered, maggot ridden bodies up over and over again.
    You know, if there are good people in the world, (and there’s plenty) and there are also bad people.
    Not every homeless person is just unlucky. Some are just reaping it. Perhaps if we treated each one on their merits, half of them would have to get a job instead of a handout.

    I spend half my “important day” looking after illnesses and injuries that are the easily predictable result of the actions of the patient themselves.

    That feels better.

    Like

  9. The atheist says:

    What really shits me, is the hard working father of three small kids who has a random heart attack and drops dead. I never seem to get them back. Opiate overdoses, must have saved 30 or 40.
    God shits me.

    Like

    • Rolly says:

      I’ve been watching the ABC TV doco on the “Dunedin Longitudinal Study” which is being replicated world wide.
      Quite revealing, especially the bit about domestic violence which society seems to continually ignore – the aggression by the female side of the debate which has some “feminists” outraged.

      “God” is a construct of those who desire personal power and wealth: “He” is an artifice evolved to confuse and control the ‘laity’.
      One of the most successful and longest running “con jobs” in the history of mankind.
      It’s the perpertrators and perpetuators of this seemingly endless evil who shit me.

      Like

  10. The atheist says:

    Perpetrators and perpetuators yes. I also have a general distain for the believers. How about a little healthy scepticism people. Open your cosy little minds to the full bastardry and beauty of existence. Live.

    Like

    • ewfire11 says:

      Hey atheist ……………………. I like your style. Give up on the bandages and the potions and the fixing up of what is draining your very soul and take to the keyboard and write full time.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. The atheist says:

    It’s all good ewfire11. Delivered a baby pulled over on the top of the Narrows bridge a couple of weeks back. Plenty of ying to my yang.

    If only I had a soul.

    Like

  12. The atheist says:

    Ah, bum jokes. It’s like six degrees of separation. All male conversation ends with a fart.

    Like

    • Rolly says:

      One does feel the need to air a well defined opinion.

      Like

      • ewfire11 says:

        And Rolly…….. I’m sure you is the man? We need to hear far more from you about that dreadful blot on the landscape that sits there like a contorted turd down by the Esplanade rail station. That ‘knock em up’ concrete box with not a window facing the river. You were once such a joy to read with your opinions and I’ve kept some of them to read over and to savour. You and the Doc should both be writers.

        Like

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