posted on April 20, 2009 at 9:29 pm

outside my window
some fragile rainbow is stretched across a sky
that goes from the deepest blue to the palest dawn
the jackhammers up the road pound the pavement
the garbagemen do their thing
the buses stop and start with mechanical groans n shudders
the cars pull up with squeaks n squeals
motorcycles roar off in the distance
the regular birdies : tweet tweet tweet
the mynah birdies : clack scratch brrrrrrrrng!
the door knockers : bang bang bang
the wind : woooooooow n sssssssshhhhhhhhhh
the intermittent rain : tap tap tap
the workmen : shout talk argue
the radios : ad rubbish ad rubbish
the tvs : rubbish ad rubbish ad
the lizards : no sound at all
the cactii : no more frickin’ rain
the downstairs neighbours : slam bang slam
the tinnitus : ring ring ring
the voices in my head : whisper whisper whisper
my stomach : gurgle gurgle
my heart : thumpetty thump thump
the clock : tick but never tock
the insects in the house : rustle nibble rustle
the memories in our heads : sigh sigh sigh
the regret in our hearts : oh oh oh
the compassion in our souls : ah ah ah
the megalomania extant : me me me
the poverty : brake breaking broke
youth : going going gone
time : i’m leaving you behind
sex : fuck !
drugs : zzzzzzzzz
petty ambitions n petty obstructions : ha!
the weather : burn freeze soak fry
the sea : crash roll crash
the traffic : roll crash roll
the planes : roar ROAR roar
the children : grow grow grow
i am alone in my body
same old me
whose seen today by the thousands
the nsw autumn days that hurl the storms about
the choppy ocean
the half deserted towns
one day my mother picks me up from school
on a day like this
at lunchtime
she arrives in our blue morris minor
i think shes very pretty
i’m always relieved when she arrives
i havent got any lunch if she forgets to come
i look at the picture of our young queen elizabeth
every morning we sing god save the queen
save her from what? i think…..death…..?
i love the happy n glorious n victorious bits tho
i guess the date is the 21st of april 1961
this day is always trying to reclaim me
my mother drives down the road and i sit beside her
my mother is a secretary for a guy called jim leadingham
i never met him but i heard about him plenty
same as my dad
his big boss was called george buckland
i never met him either
but they’d get mentioned at home a lot
my mother drives along the kembla grange
away from dapto and my school
towards wollongong and the lighthouse
we drive through unanderra
and all the houses n shops have significance for me
they all call out to me
i see their lives
i see their secrets
my mother keeps driving
we come to figtree
a turn off up there would take us to aunty mays
thru figtree
past the hospital where russell will be born
into wollongong
the 3rd biggest city in nsw we were told proudly
50 miles south of sydney
the steelworks
the milk bars
the weeds and the cigarette butts
lemonade delivered in crates on tuesdays by brough brothers
gee their cola had a great taste
mum likes to shop at anthony horderns
anthony horderns…what a great name for a shopping emporium
can you imagine an emporium called steven kilbeys?
we park by the lighthouse
outside a motel with sea shell window sills and frames
we sit on a bench
under a seagull sky
while the wind whips out our hair about
my mum is about 33
we have a strange relationship
i want to be her little boy
but somehow i’m already too old
already i’m too old in my shoes to be a boy
even though i’m only seven
somehow she keeps me at arms length
she loves me of course
but she doesnt really seem to like me
its ok
i’m beginning to accept the fact
that a lotta people dont really like me that much
i seem to have been born with this general dislikeability
just like some have a big nose or an aptitude for sports
i was born a bit hard to like
i kinda know why that is
even at seven
and i kinda secretly rejoice in it
i realize it is my strength n weakness kinda combined
and i immediately feel different
as soon as i could feel anything
the first thing i felt was different
and i wasnt justa kid
and i wasnt justa little boy
i was something less n more
women saw it in me
and the grown up ladies treated me strangely
never mind
i’m sitting under the lighthouse in wollongong
the fresh sea air
the sea gulls wheeling in the sky
we eat our sandwiches
the sun shines and is covered by cloud
the world seems so new
the world seems so shiny
the world seems so noisy
on mornings like that
in times like these
another noisy morning

21 Responses to “noisy morning”

    Error thrown

    Call to undefined function ereg()