Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

I didn’t know him well – during or after
he didn’t do close, or small talk.
Cryptic –
once saying life was like running
some needed longer than others.
Casual when he employed me – as a casual – for three months
pro forma felt obliged to offer credentials
seasonal worker he said
“one day’s notice, or eight hours pay.” Got that.

Perhaps he had nothing to prove
or other responsibilities
wife, three children, large loan and stalking interest rates
left no discretionary attention.
The facts of employment life comprised our longest conversation
until
I told him about the position
and the interview.
Indigent, new graduated, it was a great opportunity
“ Tuesday ” – could I have the day off.

He never actually gave permission
he didn’t say “ yes,”
or “ okay,”
or even nod.
He stated I needed to be well turned out,
that it was too far to bike
He said, “ you can borrow my car.”

Shirley – tea Lady excelsis
In the age of re-branding,
rubbish collection as waste management
medicine as health care
food service as catering,
she called herself a key lady – endearingly and resolutely.
Said,
“I’ve been a tea lady 40 something years
still making tea,
blowed if I’m going to call myself anything else.”

Ours was her last staffroom –
had been there almost a decade.
“It’s a lovely place, but with the kids gone
and getting my pension … the hours ” –
9 a.m. to 11 a.m.
and
2 p.m. to 4 p.m.
I’m tied up all day, for half a day’s pay,
but I don’t feel ready to retire, just yet
oh listen to me, I should be grateful.”

She must have listened to herself.
And
had a friend,
who wouldn’t mind part, part-time either.
They will job share – Two weeks on, two weeks off,
and be each others locum.
A good deal for both. Effective immediately.

They tell the director
he is incensed :
“I appoint staff around here, not the bloody tea lady.”

 

 

She always wondered what he thought,
he didn’t know of the 50 years of marriage
two children
several different places called home
a holiday cottage by the sea.
He had no knowledge of the clever fingers –
hands that could restore magic to broken machinery
or conjure improvements.
Of lost capacities
found only on videotape.
That the chapters of life were all complete
and now it was the appendix of a rest home –
full-time care
and one outing a week
a drive to the familiar part of the city
close to where he grew up.
The man in the shop didn’t see a grandmother, mother and wife
he only saw a woman in her 70’s buying two ice creams,
every week,
for several years.