Posted in Death

Facts of Life

“Same difference,” frustration mumbled.
not always said the farmer
whose acute hearing had been forgotten.
He came to farming late
from teaching  mathematics
equivalent and equal were similar, but different.
An example
many years before
a doctor friend worked in outback Australia
early one evening the doctor called to a farm
a worker gored by a bull
during the night the injury gathered pace.
The farmhand died.

In the morning the landowner demanded answers
the doctor unfamiliar with such hostile contempt
lamely proffered it was not always possible to be a lifesaver
“you useless fucking bastard,” scorn screamed
“you didn’t have to save his life
you only had to keep him alive” – until the morning and an aircraft.



Most of my life has been spent on the bench, occasionally called into the game by extravagance or attenuation. Waiting has turned a loner into a recorder - nondescript and inconsequential, more not noticed than overlooked - the non-vantage point of children not yet considered old enough to understand. Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry is a lifetime of picking anecdotes up and not throwing them away. Stories collected like odds and ends placed in a box in the basement, the garage, the garden shed - uncertain as to what their use might be but knowing that one day there might be one.