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An older woman crosses the road, the wind at her back and the sun in her face. She wears a baseball cap and sunglasses, and a short turquoise dress beneath a black jacket; black leggings and ankle boots. She turns, and becomes a silhouette.
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Grandparents with a super buggy. The woman strides ahead. The man pushes behind, all stiff and serious, the baby neither shaken nor stirred.
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In the depths of an eatery, far across the intersection, a man appears to be propped up in a high chair, knees together and feet apart. The legs aren’t his, though, not at all - they’re part of the table.
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Traffic stops at the lights. At the front is a woman on a motor scooter: black full-face helmet, purple jacket, turquoise jeans, suede boots tip-toeing the road.
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A tall young woman walks with her tall, grey-goateed father. They both wear puffer vests. She slips her hands into her pockets, out of the wind.
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Reaching for the Light
Bakehouse Cafe, Drummoyne, Sydney
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In Russia, one word could invite them
To smash all your things and ignite them;
So on Limerick Day
It’s important to say
That at least we’re entitled to write them.🇺🇦 #Ukraine #LimerickDay
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What Crimea made obvious then,
Russian soldiers are proving again:
They’re an alien strain,
Base, malignant and vain …
All along, they were little green men.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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Putin’s losing his tenuous grip on
The country he wears as a clip-on;
The man who relied
On deceit has supplied
All his own propaganda to slip on.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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No Bakhmut on Victory Day,
And Wagner is fading away;
The public won’t dare
Set a foot in Red Square,
And the piper has come for his pay.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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The Young Ones Look Down On Their Elders
York Street, Sydney
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From the Bridge you can see the grass behind the Opera House, and a white shape like a broken shell.
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A young woman walks with stiff formality in a yellow skirt and red-blue jumper. She has long hair braided at the sides. Her forearm presses down on top of her handbag, the thumb and forefinger poised as if to capture something from the air.
She turns suddenly, and speaks to her escort.
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A middle-aged woman walks past in the city. She wears glasses with heavy frames, and a knitted green beanie that covers most of her dark hair. One arm is folded across her chest, and her free hand presses a phone against her ear.
‘I just lost a job, as well,’ she says.
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An angry stick man rages on a building at the bottom of Druitt Street. He has a torso, two arms bent at the elbows, and a neck. No head, though, which is enough to upset anyone.
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Two adults and a tiny girl walk past Scots Church at Wynyard. The girl is the only one with a suitcase; it’s purple and blue and as big as she is, trundling along behind her. She leads the way.
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A woman in her 30s totters from the bottle shop, bent forward with her arms hanging down, fingertips clinging to a box that seems to pull her across the footpath. Her feet can barely keep up.
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Generational Change
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In a twist that was hard to ignore,
Putin briefly, while taking the floor,
Gave his black operation
A standing ovation,
And finally called it a war.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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The Red Square agenda was shortent -
No flyover! Very important!
The odds are increasing
Of pilots releasing
Their bombs where they know that they oughtn’t.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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With no military left to parade;
May the ninth is a little bit staid;
The gaps are compelling,
Resistance is swelling,
And Putin, poor diddums, is frayed.🇺🇦 #Ukraine
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In defeat, Putin thinks he will slide
To some haven, with justice denied;
But perhaps he will lunch
On a novichok crunch,
With a caesium sauce on the side.🇺🇦
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Poor Putin. Ukraine has resources.
They’re crushing his soldiers and horses.
So he’s taking his ball
And he’s charging them all
With discrediting Russia’s armed forces.🇺🇦
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Putin says, ‘We’re all reasonable men.
Sign here. Use my poisonous pen.
Then we’ll all go and play,
But don’t get in my way,
Or I’m saying the N word again.'🇺🇦
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iPhone vs The Sun
Manly Vale, Sydney