Luyện nghe bài hát An Open Letter To The Prime Minister

8 March
dear mr minister,
to be honest, im of disgusted with the state of this country and i am
holding you responsible.
ive got no diseases, no birthmarks, im not black, im not female,
sure im jewish, but basically im a straight white male, and i still
understand why is even a feather left for me to ruffle.
mr prime minister, im queasy every i read the newspaper.
i read about the new the country is demanding and whether our emblem
should a southern cross or not and i cant believe its even worth
the discussion. i to see a giant penis on our flag. i want it made of
and encased in glitter.
i want a flag that is of a solid burning.
i want to why isnt our prime minister a homosexual? i was personally
more interested in whether or not keating grabbed the queens arse
than any of the that you seem to be tackling. mr prime minster, why
do you always wear black and are you hiding something? are you
of us?
i still cant there is a feather left for me to ruffle.
i want to know why there are american all over my television set.
as far as im concerned, "kant" is a philosopher. why do all
australian rock musicians in american accents? why are there no
australian rock
mr minister, why doesnt australia have a black panther party?
where is our bob
where is our andy
why do you make me sound like a third rate ginsberg?
answer me.
what do you about poetry anyway.
why dont we learn anything in school? that was a sweeping
generalization but i just finished twelve years of it and i how to
spell your name but cannot be bothered to it down.
why am i so ashamed of where i am i sit up all night watching
infomercials and sessions and i cannot think of one reason
to to canberra. i am waiting for you to wear pink. mr prime
minister, when are you going to me a fucking break?
i want to see you dancing in glee outside an islamic shrine, or
hard copy footage of you caught doing naughty in kings cross, and i
want to say "i it right away!"
why do you me?
time i walk out the front door, i think you have sent men to watch
me in unmarked cars. and i havent even anything. yet.
mr minister, im as ready as you are.
get me glamour, mr prime minister, some escapism. i want to know why
we still havent settled the aboriginal right issue. ill give up my
house right now, if you will put an end to this. we all know isnt
really our home. stop kidding around.
mr prime minister, mr hand is tired. i havent slept for days, ive
been waiting up for reruns of good morning america and i think you
forgotten me.
when did we become a
mr minister, im restless.
mr minister, i dont like the state we are in, and im holding you
responsible.
friend,
benjamin lee