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Gedicht

Samuel Wagan Watson

Vacancy

Vacancy

Vacancy

Today, I am the caretaker for one of Brisbane’s oldest evils; the retired gaol of Boggo Road. There are still a few walls, towers and buildings, but the horror is mostly landfill now, along with selected ghosts, as the developers are moving in. I am the caretaker, a sole security guard in a graveyard of macabre remains and a boneyard of expensive machinery. Today is Sunday, the day of rest, and this place is literally dead! John Howard was rolled yesterday; just another nightmare removed from the landscape, the workers are dreaming now, sleeping the hangover of the neo-utopia. Today, I’m guarding the boneyard from the world and guarding the world from the graveyard, where art-deco apartments will soon sprout like daisies, pushed up from a redundant kitchen of Hell. But the horror needn’t fret! Prestigious chimera are borne everywhere now . . . And there’s no shortage of jobs in this age for a hard-working nightmare . . .
Samuel Wagan Watson

Samuel Wagan Watson

(Australië, 1972)

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Vacancy

Today, I am the caretaker for one of Brisbane’s oldest evils; the retired gaol of Boggo Road. There are still a few walls, towers and buildings, but the horror is mostly landfill now, along with selected ghosts, as the developers are moving in. I am the caretaker, a sole security guard in a graveyard of macabre remains and a boneyard of expensive machinery. Today is Sunday, the day of rest, and this place is literally dead! John Howard was rolled yesterday; just another nightmare removed from the landscape, the workers are dreaming now, sleeping the hangover of the neo-utopia. Today, I’m guarding the boneyard from the world and guarding the world from the graveyard, where art-deco apartments will soon sprout like daisies, pushed up from a redundant kitchen of Hell. But the horror needn’t fret! Prestigious chimera are borne everywhere now . . . And there’s no shortage of jobs in this age for a hard-working nightmare . . .

Vacancy

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