from his brekky nook to hear the laugh
of a jungly kookaburra swooping
and bashing out the brains of a blue tongue.
S o sorry. Picked his teeth and picked a tie,
and saying, so help me god if I lie,
practiced his white smile, and projected young.
Sorry. Please accept my apology.
For a sec, he seemed to mean Gillard's hair,
but his solemnity, his eyes declare:
We'll all get on, one nation now, you'll see.
Sorry for the Stolen Generations --
I don't know what we were thinking. Sorry
I stand here marked 'M,' like Peter Lorre,
Thank you so very much for your patience.
A National Apology Chair followed,
Rudd gifting one hundred thou to the team.
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