Posted in Passages


15 years ago at least,
maybe 17 or 18.
I recalled her names
but they were a combination that could be either
surname first, or second
Christain second, or first.
I didn’t want to mistake the order,
so used neither.
Probably it didn’t matter,
she was surprised I even remembered –
remembered a 3 week placement almost 20 years before.

She approached me in the shopping mall.
In her mid or late 30’s now
had worked the world – Melbourne, London, Brussels, New York –
chef in some top line restaurants.
She said she remembered me
because, “ during my training you were the only place
I got to do real cooking
and didn’t have to work as an unpaid kitchen hand
or dishwasher.”



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.