Corner Prophets
standing in the corner
with the prophets and the losers
things seemed a little clearer over there
but i’m back here in the middle
just like everybody chooses
forsaking truth without a fucking care
and the centre holds no answers
to the questions no-one asks
but the music and the colours fill my head
and i’m dancing with the children
of the pleasant and the chosen
and we’ll laugh and feast on cake until we’re dead
tanja stark 2000
I wrote this poem while I was living in Cairns, 25 years ago.
I was a young artist and a new mother, influenced by ideas from Dostoyevsky, The Matrix, and Matt Johnson’s project The The, among many other things. I had already begun creatively exploring concepts around ‘suburban gothic and the sublime divine’ that would become my lifelong fascination
And unlike the poems protagonist, I’d already figured out the edges were more interesting, leaving a fabulous job in the music industry to work in international aid and development for a year.
The premise still holds.