Brad Jackel: ‘A Meeting in Australia’ and ‘The Supernova Rave’

A Meeting in Australia

There were 99+ on the screen,
Not counting pronouns (of which there were more),
Run by a black dude from,

I don’t know, Africa—or maybe Jamaica—
An accent from somewhere—I wasn’t sure.
Anyway,

He was interrupted, shortly after starting,
By a white woman, accent from England (for sure),
Who said he should have started

With Acknowledgment of Country.

The black guy apologised profusely
To the white woman, who performed the ritual,
Followed by another, then another, then another,

Then a few more in chat, just to be safe.
There were no—you know—what are they now?
“First Australians” in the meeting,

Which was a shame, because the white woman,
With the English accent,
Could have told them how to behave too.

Because that’s never happened before.

Brad Jackel

The Supernova Rave

The night before all the murders
And all the kidnapping
And all the rape
And all the gloating for it,

There is footage in the desert,
Loud and bright and flashing,
Like the noise of war,
Thumping.

But it is not the noise of war.

It is not the sound of victory,
Nor the cry of defeat,
But the sound of singing that you hear,
And you catch a glimpse,

As the camera pans
Past blurred and writhing bodies,
Of a massive golden figure:
Buddha, on a dais raised high,

As Israel danced.

Brad Jackel