Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

Catholic
my upbringing – very
dense layers of prohibition
punishment – eternal
for pleasure and non-compliance.

Stern priests
severe nuns
eager to please parents
misbehaving in church…. the greatest sin
murder pardonable, divorce not.

Easter
church on Thursday night
Good Friday, for three hours
Saturday vigil
High Mass on Sunday
was the chocolate worth it?

Everything obtainable
or alterable
by divine intercession
or petition.

He was a cousin
twice removed
motor vehicle….. collision life … in balance
one of three.
No one knew
none of the experts prepared to prophesise
only time will tell.

A prayer vigil
attendance not mandatory but essential
I am 17
newly consorting with science
I am not convinced God
would choose to meddle in our affairs.
The priest is tired and weary – conscripted,
neither is he.

By her own admission she had been naïve
newly married – very new
honeymoon over literally
but now
the fulfillment of courtship
in their own home
except it wasn’t,
the landlord and her husband’s employer unitary – the Army.

Still, no complaints
cheap
dirt cheap $11 per week in the 1980’s.
That’s the Army she said
not a round $5, $10 or even $20
but 11
deducted from pay – no pain.

Manoeuvres
war games
exercises – whatever
tomorrow – back the following Friday.
The first time coming home
something to be celebrated
a special meal – full trimmings.

But when?
No one knew.
A call to the battalion office – polite, extra polite,
could they please indicate a rough time.
Yes,
they could tell her exactly.
“ He will be home when he arrives, and not before.”

 

The name caught –
a routinely distinguished academic
impressively intelligent
but not indelibly brilliant,
retiring from tenure aged 65
29 years before?
36, when I was 21.

The experiment ridiculously easy
a drop of acid
capture the liberated  gas … run spectra.

This spectrometer is in a research lab – off limits to undergraduates
instruction: see staff member.
I don’t need to speak,
a nod is directed at my clutched hand
he stands up and moves
I am to follow, I assume.

Through the lab
down a corridor to the lift well,
push and wait
up six levels
through smoke stop doors
another long corridor
into another laboratory.

A machine – impressive and never before seen
a hand points at an aperture
unfamiliar
connections won’t
“ turn it 90 degrees ”
90°?
“ Oh, sideways,”- a nod.

The machine performs its magic
a series of lines is printed
he tears the perforation from the printer – scans quickly – turns.
Backspace
corridor, lift, corridor, lab
20 minutes together – just the two of us
“ turn it 90° the only words spoken.”