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459 Fitzgerald Street
North Perth, WA, 6006
Australia

PETER DUTTON AND THE BEAUTY, AT SUNSET

The Amber Fresh Chronicles

PETER DUTTON AND THE BEAUTY, AT SUNSET

Andrew Ryan

it’s nearly sunset and i’m free. there’s the moon already in front of us, in a soup of white clouds, freely moving through the sky. when you’ve got it easy, everything gets easier. when you have it hard, everything is hard.

i made a new friend last night at soup kitchen, we’ll call him john. he had sixteen years in prison and then never went back. while we were sitting out the front two boys came on bikes. first they wanted to buy weed. then they wanted john to go up to the bottle-o and buy them booze. so he went. when he came back he was all shaky and told me why, but with his way of talking and with all his broken teeth i made faces and noises like i understood, but i didn’t understand. my friend nigel explained it to me: john’s friend hung himself – the boys just told him.

did you know the richest fifth of australians have seven more teeth than the poorest fifth? well, it’s true.

when things are hard they’re really hard. your teeth fall out. your family rip you off. you borrow money and cash converters spring on you suddenly with 54% interest.

this morning i watched a video of peter dutton talking about people fleeing their countries. he said they can’t read and write, they can’t do maths and they’ll stand in queues wanting money, or try to take jobs off people. there’s something wrong with him that apparently a thousand sunsets haven’t fixed.

at dusk i’m going to go out in a field and send good energy to him. i sometimes think about sending curses or bomb threats, but we watched a documentary last night about the weathermen – white college students who learned to make bombs to stop the vietnam war, but ended up blowing some of themselves up and so changed their tactics a little. they also got good at public speaking and humped each other in the back of vans going to rallies, to sink in the point that they were all truly together in a new way. but that part of it didn’t work either.

they had the right idea though – some things we just can’t stand, and won’t stand and don’t have to stand.

pete, nick and i played at the bird, but the best song i heard that friday was at 7:30am in the morning. a young nyoongar man stood up in front of a bunch of generally white and free people and sung a welcome to country song in his own language. it was in the middle of the city which we all know now used to be lakes. all the people walking by would have heard, but us standing right in front of him also saw his hands move, as if over the moving waters under our feet, freely moving, freely calling up the waters running beneath us all, freely freeing something inside us that is going to grow and grow and grow.

i’ll watch the sunset and it will change me. i’ll call on something big and it will change mr dutton. i’ll call on the moon to move the waters, with friends and spirits everywhere, and it all will, just wait and see.

also i just went to the ballet, with my housemate and lots of people from the soup kitchen. it was beauty and the beast. an orchestra down in the pit lit up like the late afternoon, and dancers on the stage in flowing clothes all jumping and tiptoeing into each other. they had a beggar near the beginning of the story coming to ask the prince for something – shelter? food? love and care? it’s hard to know because there was no speaking, but what was easy to know was that the prince was turned into a beast by a magical being on tiptoes, and the only thing that could save him was true love, and his beastliness was an outward showing of what had been in his heart, but in the end of the story of course the beastliness is over come by a kiss and a rose and if someone comes to his house again dirty and mishappen by misfortune this time he will know exactly what to do. a prince, a monster, a curse, a rose, everything turning out at the end how it’s meant to. just wait and see.