Vale
(to the Bowerbirds)
They left cheap costume jewelry out for you
to pinch
where you stayed
frittering and chattering across the place
that iced-up happiness
an eye for all the things that sparkled
Brave like a man but slight
as a whisper
defying everything - including what was due
to you
until you didn’t
one night on The Strip
refusing the ambulance - your mates
(
scum of the earth – yeah that’s them)
stole a blanket then put you in a wheelie
bin
to get you up the hospital
you told me
laughing from your bed
how your mother said
“won’t get in the ambulance but you’ll get
in a fuckin wheelie bin”
scattered fun like glitter
around that white, life-denying space
We all laughed too often – kept mirth hanging
on our chests like an unpaid debt
never was a break inside that rhythym, never
could be or else the fall
crying gets you nowhere
and nowhere, and nowhere.
Dear Kerri, That's so wonderful. Your gang. The poem's ending is very very fine. (And sure, me too, I'd get in a wheelie bin pushed by my mates before I got in an ambulance with strangers.)
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteP.S. For some odd reason, your poem kind of reminds me of this old thing.
ROVING THOUGHTS
Roving thoughts
& the provocations
old thorns in the side
uncomfortable reminders
of both this world & the other
riding you like wind rides a rose
when the moment permits a prayer
A parent or a child
sitting on the footpath
bawling because they lost
the one I just keep traveling on
treading barefoot on fallen acorns
in the dream they are only megaphones
shouting public things that aren’t in prayers
Oh this is very fine. xx
DeleteGreat piece Kerri. Saw a 20 something me in Vale. Oh how that seems a life time ago....scattered fun like glitter around that white.
ReplyDeleteI agree, ambulances don't make you feel better just scared.
ReplyDeleteI love this and the crazy courage in the face of real fear...
ReplyDelete' crying gets you nowhere
ReplyDeleteand nowhere, and nowhere.'
your poem tells us why.