Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Mister Adventure Hammock Man -11/08/2011


Leave it there just one second longer

I ask her
as she moves
on the empty glass

-just one second longer-

clutching at it like a kids toy
while flashing her a half-embarrassed smile
same one I've often used
to get out of awkward spots

an apologetic explanation
holds biting-point in my half open mouth
but all that comes out is

I know better
than to get into sentimental matters
with bar-staff,
especially bar staff at airports

I couldn't really rationalise it
because not everyone
looks at everything in front of them
as photographically as I do
my mind framing this glass
like the last photo
I didn't get
with the man
who has just drunk this glass
and left.

because I didn't say half
of what I wanted to say to him
because I have lots of words
that don't fit the right way
and would look awkward on us both

because sometimes there are spaces so big
that come with my words
that you could lose whole friends
in the gaps I stick
between them

because sometimes you leave places
you won't get to go back to
you lose people
because I spent most of our last day
bitching about the last girl
I fell in love with
because he introduced us
because I now feel stupid
realising I should have instead
been talking to him about
how much I love

because a good feeling about someone
needs to feel the comfort
of a voice carrying it home

because I shared a home with him this past year
and it won't quite feel like one without him
because that time
when I was walking up to the front door
to find it open, light on inside
and his clarinet music wafting down incense
on the summer time breeze,
that share house became a home.

because he once hugged me that time
coming in from the night-hours worked
that didn't have a hope
and he did it,
because he just knew I needed it.

because beyond a man-hug
we've squeezed so much
shared-joke and photo-face
into our time and thoughts exchanged
and now he's leaving this country
continuing his way round the world
started years before we met
with no plans to return
and I respect that

because when I grow up,
I want to be Christopher Harper

walking like there's never a hurry
because there really won't be one
not worrying about my next or last lay
because there'll always be another on the way
cooking gourmet for myself and house-mates
because it's a joy not a chore

like he tried to teach me
because he was so stone-cold-sick
of seeing me can-eat baked beans
and raw noodles

though I'll never really learn
because unlike him
I'm slow on the uptake
a quarry made hard-cased square peg
tin man built knuckle-loved
mashing key pads
too small for my fat fingers

who runs-backwards to his friends
for help,
friends like Chris
who, not to over-gloss this lot
sometimes would push my buttons too
with complaining his way around the world
or with some of those girls
he brought home
before giggling at the garbage
me and my friends would watch
his snobbery verses our slovenly tastes
scoffing, actually scoffing,
then and there,

but he was there

when demons were summoned-substantial
from the worst of my dreams
to threaten me, he fended them off
playing exorcist cum spirit guide
and we flinched our way through that bat country
he kept me safe

because that's what friends are for
that's what Chris is for
because he has been one of the best
I'll ever have
trusted, respected
and I've suspected
that life back in Melbourne
won't be the same without him

because inspite the belly ache
elliptical monologue revision
I kept spitting out our last day
he actually did, still listen
when I spent all that day
about that (damn) girl

ahhh... I ask her
as she moves
on the empty glass,

-just one second longer-

to leave it there
on the mat
at the bar
at the terminal
at the airport
in the city
where we said goodbye
very likely for the last time

while being exactly the same height
Chris and I
didn't always see eye to eye
not suffering in sentiment
he takes things easy, as they come
then lets them go
I spend most my time desperately sweaty
trying to get a grip

only a few minutes gone
it was easy to imagine
him still there
seeing me grope for that glass
fool sitting there half-empty

he would have laugh-smiled
patted me on the back
saying something like

man, in the end~

You gotta just let some things go.





tori said...

well now you got me blubbering, thinking of all the hellos and goodbyes and all the in betweens and the people that mean so much but you may never see again but yeah sometimes you do just have to let it go huh, again you've moved me with your magic meal of words

Anonymous said...

Thanks Mr. That's beautiful.

I especially liked the 'square peg, tin man' stanza.

And hey, surely I can scoff at Jackass? You've got an IQ of 360..... so you're secure. ;)