Posted in Death

On the Record.

Kath seemed young for someone thought old
45 is – to an early 30’s male.
She cold called looking for work
then confessed knowledge of impending vacancy
laughing, “you have to be in to win”
then serious, her CV could vouchsafe hard work
then convincing – she wouldn’t let me down.

In over a decade of selecting staff
she was the best hiring made
unrelenting in cheer and effort
the highest standards, work and personal
praise was held at a sensible distance
“this is so is so much better than most places I’ve worked
people here don’t know when they’re well off.”

She seemed to understand the burdens of a boss
that most useful workplace accessory
an ear which listens – then deletes
where confidential goes, between paper and shredder.

A fellow employee in hardscrabble circumstances
became pregnant
by choice
a planned addition to her family.
Reservation spoke to Kath about the wisdom
pondering the prudence of straining already scarce funds.

By formal mathematics all entities can be valued and ranked
by popular sociology judgement is a greater sin than indiscretion
which is greater than gossip.
Frost : such a reliable informant
directly or indirectly the woman with child knows
never again speaking to me unless unavoidable
shrunk, razor wire phrases.
Trust, a diamond much time in formation
destroyed forever by careless cutting.



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.