innocently entering
malcolm fraser’s
temporary garden
through the black
wrought-iron
security-gate
that is opened
to let in
to ‘his’ lodge
an immaculately-groomed
shampoo-scented
visiting rolls-royce car,
the
small
white
french
(republican’s)
poodle
curtsies deep
to the (australian)
(royalist’s)
ground
it is peeing upon
as if
to illustrate
with the purest
of pee
in the absence
of ideals
policies
‘truth’
or wit—
a politics of expedience
with a dog’s habit
of following its nose.

First published in Overland 90—1983