Category: Lies

Early winter mid morning Monday
the city has returned to work
at a beachside cafe
two plump women
talk urgent matters of social inequity.

Clothing precise and contrasting
black pant suit of propriety
bohemian trinketed funk
sobriety’s yin – yang’s empathy.
They speak bureaucracy
with accents of polished faith.

“ A code of conduct must be written
incorporating tolerance for the associative behaviours
of educational and social underachievement.”

The streetwise one yearns, “ to implement the process
the spirit of funding is incorrect.”
The other concurs congruently
“direct subsidy is needed
the opportunity will be lost
if only….”

The cheerful insistence of a smart phone interrupts.
“Yes … good … I was hoping to touch base
the documentation is complete …. just waiting sign off.”
All is well
they adjourn to espresso and cheesecake
and sigh at the untidiness of the world.

The map on each school room wall was proudly red
“The British Empire,” glowed teachers.
A former colony looked up to England
figuratively and geographically.
God save the Queen. Royal tours
Vice Regals with ostrich plume headdress.

Declared a prime minister declaring war
“where Britain goes we go.”
We did. Transport a roll call of British engineering
Our cars Austin, Morris, Riley, Vauxhall
Bedford trucks. Leyland buses
diecast replicas
coveted boy presents
runners up in desire only to Hornby train sets.

Hornby train sets.
virtual landscape of the English countryside
packaged with track, engine, tender, wagons
Micro verisimilitude – run like clockwork – macro envy.

Every year
aged six
aged seven
aged eight
aged nine
when asked birthday wish
a train set. Hornby of course.

My mother laughed
“no you don’t.”
At 10 the same question
a new answer. “You’re too old for that now.”
“Now.” Qualification has expired.

Throwaway line as lie
“no you don’t ”
more loving than truth.
There wasn’t enough money for a train set.

Brothers
bros yet to be pop culture contraction
not quite clergymen
poverty, chastity and obedience
obedience given and demanded.
Gold hearted. Iron fisted. Teachers of adolescent boys.

He was an anomaly
Mr amongst conferees
sir to his charges.
“ Sir,” as if born with title
in class, “ what is the coordinate value? ”
“3y.”
“3y what? ”
“3y sirrrrr.”

Despite not being ordained
he was the only one who always began with prayer.
For some the self-consciousness of sensitivity
is never not
a bridegroom leading the first waltz
father in laws holding new borns
uncles at funerals.

Today at commencement prayer
the former army officer
is at loss
sternness momentarily without rank
he has a special intention
a pause.
Clouds drift. Time ticks. Paper rustles
as silent as a classroom can be
near magic offers excuse for confession.

A boy not much older than us
is to be sentenced today
a glass bottle thrown from a moving vehicle
struck a bystander – serious injuries.
The one probably to be jailed didn’t do it
the others in the car bible swore he did.