So many places are we from,
and bearing odd sounding names.
From what did we run away?
And to what do we still cling?
Did we break loose and move
... like brittle ball bearings,
slipping out of a rusted groove?
Next, like fireflies caught in a jar,
is that then what we became?
Is that still what we Auslanders are?
Does everything, not our strength,
eventually become our infirmity?
Does everything, not diamond-hard,
eventually fall by the wayside?
Where was the line, and was there a line
between snarling mongrels and hybrids?
How many times can we Aliens stumble
before we implode and crumble, adrift
from a Wobby Globe, back into Star Stuff,
onto and unto what once filled Galaxies,
And One Day will fill the blackest of Holes?
The �melting pot�, assimilation, and Jewish identity.
