Thanks, Sheila.
Bill
On Wednesday, December 2, 2015, Sheila Murphy <[log in to unmask]>
wrote:
> Pretty intriguing piece, and enjoyable to read, Bill. Thanks!
>
> On Tue, Dec 1, 2015 at 2:40 PM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]
> <javascript:;>>
> wrote:
>
> > (or) Two doors, six rats
> >
> > You could do that then.
> > In permanent blue felt tip,
> > ex-schoolgirl swim champ Sharon
> > wrote out Ginsberg's Howl on the door
> > of the salmon kitchen cupboard
> > in our share house in Heidelberg
> > and when it wouldn't all
> > fit, she used the inside of the cupboard
> > and the final stanza even leaked
> > on to the laminex bench top next to the sink.
> > No, hang on, it was America, the one
> > with the line asking when he'd be able to buy
> > what he wanted from supermarkets
> > with his good looks.
> >
> > Found five dead rats while decommissioning
> > a spa in our new house this morning. Hollow
> > sockets for eyes, whip-long tails, time-holes
> > in their jaws, requiring prising off
> > the old floorboards where they'd stuck.
> >
> > Sharon had been bequeathed a white Valiant
> > so for the first time we had a car parked
> > in our cracked concrete driveway.
> > We could shop in the suburbs.
> > And drive to parties.
> > One night I didn't feel like it
> > when I got there, Punt Road pizza
> > curdling in my guts, so I asked Sharon
> > for the keys to sit it out in the car.
> > You could do that then.
> >
> > I poked my nose in from time to time
> > but Sharon was enjoying herself,
> > adopting the right combination of cynicism
> > and celebration which I could never pull off.
> > Do you mind if I head off, is what
> > I remember asking, seeing she had heaps
> > of friends there to give her a lift home.
> > So I scarpered, drove home and conked.
> >
> > Can't remember which I heard first:
> > the yelling: 'Hey, bastard,' or the sound
> > of my bedroom door being kicked.
> > All know is it went on for a bit
> > so I got up, locked the door
> > (I slept in the old lounge room
> > which had a key for some reason)
> > and went back to bed.
> >
> > Next day she was still dark on me.
> > Turned out she'd had to score a lift home
> > with some creep, after thinking
> > her car had been stolen.
> > Thud! Thud! She really gave that door
> > a workout. I'd never experienced naked
> > emotion outside the family.
> >
> > Went on to a singing career, Sharon.
> > Heard her on my Corolla radio years later.
> > First single was a smash. Spanish Seas.
> > Second stalled but she was on the rise again
> > with her third when cancer clubbed her.
> > Dead at 52; famous husband, kids.
> >
> > Rats went out in the bin, along with broken
> > slate levered off walls and floors.
> > Should we polish the floorboards?
> > How come, Sharon once asked,
> > everybody we know is fucked?
> > You could say that then.
> >
> > bw
> >
>
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