Orphaned Islands (Un)poetry

December 23, 6:55 a.m.
the phone
early – almost inappropriate
it will be family or
wrong number. Wrong.
It is the Blood Service
could I donate today – yes
can I come in as early as possible – yes.
On arrival, no waiting, instantly processed – bustle
I ask …
the blood will be screened immediately
then flown to a provincial city.

Three months later
another donation.
On the noticeboard, centre and proud
pasted on brown butcher’s paper
a cutting
from a heartland newspaper
chronicling the backstage of drama – logistics.

An urgent need for blood
a young mother, critically ill
an aircraft supplied without charge
express analysis by laboratory staff
12 donors
strangers all, to the recipient
a happy ending.
Across the bottom scrawled in children’s crayon
‘ thank you for saving our mummy’s life.’

 

 

 

Children,
such wonderful promulgators of misconception
and mispronunciation.
A friend’s young son once told me
they had a boy puppy –
that it was written underneath
because daddy had turned it upside down …. then told him.
Buzz, the way of buzzer, Aldrin
would have been plain old Edwin,
if his sister had been able to pronounce brother.

And I grew up thinking Christmas carol grandma knocked down a reindeer
because
in our part of town people kept saying, old Mrs Black should stop driving,
she’s going to knock someone down.

I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if our grandma
had knocked down a reindeer – or anything
and the police been summoned.
When she was 70 my father urged her to take the physical
required to keep her driving licence.
She deemed it not necessary
he persisted.
Ping-pong for 10 minutes
my father stated she would lose her licence to drive –
“ they’ll take it from you.
No they can’t.
Yes they can!”

“ No they can’t – I haven’t got one.” And never had.
Whenever grandma was driving and saw a policeman
she waved cheerfully to them,
often they smiled
and waved back.
She was still driving when she died aged 83 –
still without a licence.

 

 

Antarctica was full of pranks
occasionally funny
sometimes spiteful
Invariably juvenile : unsurprising –
the base often wore the costume of a fraternity house
or boarding school dormitory.

Disclaimer: I walked right into it –
vegetarian sandwiches labelled for the flight home
should never have been left unattended.
Gotcha,
jalapeno juice – lift bread pour over
hot – very hot – in edible
the fight long and slow – strong winds
11 hours plus three since chow
hungry, very hungry.
Still some satisfaction
the perpetrator never got to see my frustration.

A decade later
another time, another place
a private hospital : the perpetrator’s father a patient
open and shut the surgeon called it, only prayer.

8.30 a.m. Christmas morning
as he cannot go to them, they have come to him
10 or 12 siblings, nephews and nieces
the charge nurse asks me
can you do Christmas lunch for them
she understands if I can’t – lack of notice etc
there are only four working
it will be a long, very long, day.
“Sure.” I say.