Colonic for the colonial

We're western.
You're here, we're here.
So let's relate.
Why are you here?
Let's not relate.
It makes no sense for you to be so pleased,
Here,
A terrible voice,
an unfair cadence rocketing about the conch,
dim fade, reverb staid.
Glass blown mind made pure and willing
for the feedback loop of bluey colonial scoff.
Grandad and his switch,
Mum, dad all checked out and gone.
Gold clogged, silver fatigued.
A puke on my hands,
glistening, trembling streaks,
chilli crab residue,
the pause before I find you -
Ya-ya-ing, yawing,
as you were,
yawning.