Thanks, Pat. dead right. I have taken the scalpel to Bobs in redraft.
Bill
On 11/12/2013, at 9:06 PM, Patrick McManus wrote:
> Hi Bill thanks lovely great sprawl of images -maybe 'Bobs' in 5 lines
> needs a little edit??
> Max also looking back this morning cheers P
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
> Behalf Of Bill Wootton
> Sent: 10 December 2013 20:40
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Bendigo
>
> Bendigo
>
> Brother Dan and I played the car game
> in the front yard at Lucan Street: we'd run along the top
> of the four-foot high two-tone red brick front fence, stopping
> when we reached a raised brick pillar. The two taller ones at either end,
> marking neigbours' boundaries and the two highest, sentinels of the front
> gate,
> were agreed safety zones. You had to be standing on one of these four and
> stock still,
> when a car drew parallel with you. If caught on a section between the
> pillars, even on either
> of the two intermediary low pillars, you lost. Otherwise it was a game of
> constant motion. Keeping the Bendigo blues at bay. Estimating approaching
> car speeds, risky running, brinkmanship in the afternoo
> n.
>
> Lucan Street, down from the Bendigo Base Hospital,
> our Grandparents' place, Dad's parents. Elm tree lined.
> Two cars, three at a pinch, nosed to the gutter between trunks.
> Raked up fallen elm leaves ignited right there on the road
> at the base of trees. Smoke winding up bark.
> Trimmed roses either side of the curling concrete path
> to the fly-screened front porch where milk, bread
> and later, meals-on-wheels were door-delivered.
> Enter through one half of the glazed double front door,
> proceed across carpeted hallway towards the kitchen door,
> see the carved cuckoo clock on the wall. A box of carpet bowls,
> Henselite, on a mahogany hallstand. Turn right, bathroom
> of scalds ahead, now left, through spare bedroom to sleep-out.
> Place of wooden wonders. Trains, skittles, Bobs game.
> Like billiards for midgets. Set up Bobs in dining room.
> First get brown car rug from Grandma. Spread it out,
> pattern-side down on the dining table. Place Bobs set at far end
> of table. Unfold the Bobs wings. Using wooden cue as ruler,
> mark with white chalk the shooting line. Lean over,
> take cue-aim at Tom Bowler-sized wooden black ball.
> Propel it at the kitty, a golden ball, hoping to ping it
> into a high scoring arched hole, preferably
> with a loud thwack on the backboard.
>
> Outside, Nicky, black and white border collie in her large square dog
> enclosure.
> Reach over the top and tickle-pat the top of her head and she'll almost hum
> with patient enjoyment. Remove your hand eventually to Nicky's
> consternation.
> Walk on cracked concrete by Grandma's fernery, past the sandpit, past the
> tomato patch,
> the length of the full-sized cricket pitch where Uncle Charlie got
> head-bopped
> when he played a leave, forgetting the only keeper was a fast-rebounding
> concrete wall.
> An axe-softened chopping block in front of the woodshed in the far corner.
> Turn back - mind the woodchips - now pumpkins on your left, cross
> the grassy driveway to the chookshed. Raise first one, then the other,
> hinged wooden flap, checking for a warm egg in straw.
> With or without egg, continue across verge, under apricot tree. Listen.
> Maybe there will be
> glasses chinking next door over the high creeper-saturated concrete fence.
> The Michelsons.
> Buick drivers. Party people. Climb, if you feel like it, the apricot tree,
> grab a quick look over the top. There's the door. The overgrown outhouse
> entrance, Grandpa once told you,
> to the wartime tunnel leading under their house and all the way under this
> house
> to a cellar in the old malthouse on the other side.
>
> Bendigo, City with Go, slogan on the new cardboard milk cartons.
> Huh, no go, said Dan, no CITY, said me. But it was a place.
>
> bw
> 11.12.13
>
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