Category: Lies

Research was different now he admonished
the past of my fleeting career
flabby
and long toned lean.
Outcomes were what counted. And could be counted.

Funding these days competitive and mercenary
publication was authentication and verification.
The paper shufflers wanted to see papers
not so much one’s name in lights, as ink.

Publish or perish the mantra of the modern researcher.
Market forces controlled, grants, tenure, promotion and redundancy
keyboards untouched for several years
were tapping out innovation, hounding editors.

One paper in a recent periodical truly elegant
the predicted and observed matched exactly – precisely.
The data absolutely compliant to the command of hypothesis
distraction springs to attention. Suddenly respectful. Wanting to know.

A highly original piece of research
examined the distribution of light in an orchard.
Proximity of windbreak trees reduced light
and
increased shadow.
Two outcomes for one funding. Cost effective.

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Grandad was a refugee from prejudice
emigrating to hope
arriving in the new land with the tools of his profession
wheelbarrow, pick and shovel.
No resettlement or orientation
a train to the wilderness
and then to work
extending the line beyond where he had been set down.

He never spoke of it
but the men with him bequeathed two facts
it was very hard work. And he a hard worker.

The adopted country brought modest prosperity.
Success?
Only if his children and grandchildren
didn’t earn wages of sweat
education the key he said.

In the new century
a grandson is elevated to the bench
a judge descended from a man
who departed a country sanctioning persecution.

Swearing in is to take place in the city I live
a dark time
at the point my cousin’s ambitions are awarded
mine plunged to depths – lower than before. Or since
the large family contingent unfaceable.

When in doubt, a famous attorney advised
say nothing
difficult with seven voicemail invitations
and my parents booked to fly in.

Honesty.
I went to his office
and spoke the truth
confessing failure in the presence of new, old success.
It wasn’t easy

He was my mother’s godson and favourite
I told her of visit and my planned absence
“ he’d have been kind and understanding,” she said
“ making it easy for you
he’s good like that.”

“He was,” I assured her.
He wasn’t
I was someone with a problem – not his
a pain in the butt
a loser.
I left feeling very small.

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The last confusion of growing up
or first conceit of adulthood
specialty of niche within social group
sport, literature, IT, travel.
Find a vacancy
become the group expert – non-curricular only.

I used to say I was a food slut
that I liked to eat around
it became a mission to find new cafes – first
to rate and recommend
to obtain recognition for expertise.

It was a nondescript place in an unimaginative suburb
opinion went in to sneer
condescension : the critic’s reliable cover.
Respect. Instant. Good. Very good.

Themed 1960s Italian cool
scruffy and hip
might get lucky lighting
testosterone coffee. Impossible to say no baking.

From the cash register she conducts the kitchen
slim and dark
cheerful, precisely the right tone and volume
the owner – no doubt.
Snatches of chords tease memory
scattered memos never filed
years of itinerancy so many people met – and not again
strangers who never became acquaintance.

Detour regularly visits for coffee and pastry
graphite afternoon steps into brightness
noise, tradesmen, expansion
ambience banished by full glare
the owner unbotoxed by shadow.

The light
she knew. And I knew.
The score
failed candidature.
“Thank you for attending…..”

She was desperate for the job
we unmoved.
I continue to come by
she continued to be pleased to see me.
Both pretended we didn’t know.

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