Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

Everybody was paid the same hourly rate
equalisation was what it was called
explained at the interview
and again at the pre departure briefing
a condition of employment. Sign here.

Wherever two or more gather
self worth imagines superiority or privation.
Kitchen staff, worked early mornings, nights, Sundays
and every public holiday
pulling in the big dollars and passing them over
janitors Monday to Saturday 8.00 – 4.30
no dirt money for expunging the daily faeces and vomit.
Payslip equality
compulsory communism
as we enjoyed rampant capitalism.

The Easter moon
full and bright
still has a dark side.

Eddie was sharp, very sharp
prep school
and secure prospects.
Antarctica just the kick-off to world travel
before returning to the family business.
He did the algebra
calculating precisely the value n + 0.0001
n being the minimum acceptable output.
Our shift comprised eight people
with one rostered off each day
his cunning was a burden
somehow it seemed dishonourable to inform.

For the back story click Backstage

That irrevocable feeling
what is born on the tongue as throwaway
falls flat
wrong
and thoroughly inappropriate – flatulence at a funeral.

McMurdo was a navy town
reception was the quarter deck
washrooms were heads
dining rooms were mess decks
the kitchen a galley.

Galley slaves was what we called ourselves
mess attendants the official title
vegetable peeling, dishwashing, table bussing
scrubbing and swabbing.
And cleaning
toothpick, white glove check, everything.
Anybody standing still would hear the refrain
“ if you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to clean.”
True.

Kitchens, hard work. Hot and dirty
where there’s dirt there’s gold. Well-paid
but status poor.
Mess attendants, kitchen hands, galley slaves
hired help to the Navy
the basement to the Navy’s downstairs
of the upstairs downstairs of science.
Bottom of the heap
for trips, accommodation, exemptions.

But God has a sense of humour
we had the best showers on base
an old 60s era plywood box barn
once bright now faded to rust colour
known affectionately as the redhead.
A comfortably worn cave of dim light
aircraft hanger space
hot, hot water
and magnificent pressure. It was our secret.
Word trickled out, the odd trespasser in
women welcome. Men tolerated.

Time and place and people often coincide
an interloping scientist often arriving as I finished
“caught you naked again,” he says jovially
“I just like to expose myself,” the unthinking, unrehearsed reply
lips rigidly tight he turns and leaves.
One afternoon I am wiping tables
he is sitting with two colleagues
looking conspiratorially in my direction
all three get up and move when I approach.

For the back story click Backstage

NSF paid the bills
set the budget
and made the rules.
For food service no portion control
$4.26 per person per day rations cost
Overs and unders
for every steak and lobster dinner
three of chilli macaroni
chicken fricassee
or beef cubes.

Solution.
five 6-day cycles
Sunday fixed menu.
Continental breakfast.
Brunch.
Steak and lobster.

Patrons learned which meals to be early
and those to be avoided.
Shrimp
taken by the shovelful
never enough
we learn to hide on shrimp day.

Ray, mess watch captain
220 lbs
nudging 6 feet
squat and black.

One supper
Shrimp has been depleted with 30 minutes left
from the serving line like a lion bellowing conjugal rights
“ hey man where’s the shrimp at ”
before I can offer excuse or apology
Ray brick outhouses forward
“where’s the shrimp at.. where’s the shrimp at..
all them other godammnedgreedyassedmofuckers ate it.
that’s where it’s at.”
Got that.

For the back story click Backstage