Category: Lies

An unexpected guest
after a second, second glass of wine
an interesting story.
A client had visited earlier that year.
This was her testimony.

Change had occurred, she was certain
no scent, e-mail or unfamiliar phone number
just furtive distraction and counterfeit attention.

Some solutions do not require formal logic
conviction – without evidence or trial.
An appointment with a lawyer
and an unexpected question.
Is it knowledge? Or suspicion?

Knowledge and suspicion
different entities : different issues – different solutions.
Agitated and distressed she will be treated as fool
no one is going to take what she has
she will leave on her terms.

Although not sought
counsel is offered.
The clock is stopped
if no action is taken – no invoice – no record
for 45 minutes a chilling, unfolding inventory of loss.
A much smaller house
in an area of much greater social inequality
contracted income and expanded expenses
two embattled opponents
constantly drafting truces with conflict weary children.

Is it worth it? Just for intuition.
Go home drop a hint
the guilty are careful listeners
fear of prosecution is a powerful corrector
if nothing changes come back.

Later that same night
after a second, third drink
a question – will doubt it go away?
“ Probably not.”

At some point in the 1980s or 90’s
workplace commonsense became uncommon
when standards were invented.
Standards
lengthy tomes of inconsequential detail.

A man who worked in a care
where people were expected to die
was asked the protocols for such an event.
He replied
treat the body with respect and notify family.

Inadequate. Insensitive. Unprofessional.
A protocol must be written
19 pages of
functions, procedures, accountabilities, inputs, outputs.
A crisp, authoritative manual
urging respect and immediate contact of family.

In the hospital kitchen I once oversaw
if something was used a rigorous scrubbing was dispensed
all surfaces were washed at the end of each day.
No schedules, no manual, no protocols just routine.

Cleaning graduates to sanitation. Training is necessary.
The instructor talks of the invisible dangers
campylobacter, salmonella, food borne illness. New apparently.
pathogens lurk everywhere – especially for chilled food.
temperature must be recorded every four hours
and a refrigerator logbook kept.

At coffee I confide the absence to a fellow attendee
She suggests I adopt her example
once a week
she fills out a logbook
writing in temperatures within the recommended range.

What if malfunction reveals lack of monitoring?
No problem. Everybody is on board.
Before raising any alarm
find the logbook
fill in any blanks with exonerating temperatures.

We became friends
like rain in the tropics
there were no beginnings
it just began – strong and resolute.

I never quite understood how
too young to be my father
too old for big brother.
Perhaps it was cricket
we were both mad about the game.

An uncomplicated man
never more than a farm labourer
even here
in a research facility – with the title science technician.
Not unsuccessful – far from it
living proof of the virtues of hard work
always two jobs – sometimes three.
Tiredness often kept his company
it could have been the evening work.

We sought each other out most days
talk, laughter and occasional gossip.
Once expecting emphatic denial I quietly ask
of newly heard tittle tattle – a staff member beat his wife.

He seemed especially tired that day
taking a long time
then spoke with a lack of speed
which seemed the makings of age.

“You haven’t been here very long.”
Stark and harsh on paper
soft by ear.

A not heard before voice flat tones
what seems best is not always better.
Sometimes
pretence is preferable
denial was probable. Certain.
In their street clothes, the authorities couldn’t not know.
Exposure would find rage – then revenge.

In my forties I returned to the small town
where my career was hatched but not fledged.
Two decades removed from self acquittal
life’s abrasions clarify understanding of indifference.

We let her down.
I never got to tell him.
When I returned
he had too – to his maker.