Coral Hull: Poetry: Point-Blank-Poor: 42. Charities, Including A Free Orange Cardigan

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: POINT-BLANK-POOR
42. Charities, Including A Free Orange Cardigan

It's bad when you go into the charities for food.
All the deros, look at your plastic bags
before you come out, to see what flavour you got,
or what stale breakfast cereal, fruitloops or cornflakes.
They watch your shirt creep up
your hips, when you leave with the backpack.
But they are too tired for you sexually.
There is not an ounce of that feeling still
left in them. Just the twig like erection
& piss stains on the trousers. But something
tells me that they could suddenly perk up.
That they could creep up on you from behind,
to hit you over the head with a saucepan,
for a food coupon.

The social security social worker asks,
'Why do you want a food parcel?'
"Because I am a scumbag,' you reply.
'I am the absolute scum of the earth.'
They seem to be satisfied with this, so I obtain a referal.
Then a St Vincent DePaul volunteer worker asks,
'Have you ben here before?' & you say, 'Often.'
& before they can ask why, you reply,
'Because I am a scumbag.'

This will get you a loaf of white bread,
with yesterday's used by date,
beef flavoured no-name noodles, frozen peas,
baked beans in animal fat & half a brown cabbage,
that looks like it's been thrown off the back of a truck,
frozen sheep ribs, (not meant for your dogs),
white sugar wrapped in brown paper,
two tea bags & some vegemite.
Don't eat it all at once, that's if you eat it at all.
'We only hand out food parcels three times a year.'
Well, thank God for the Salvos, for that.

Or, 'no, we cannot give out cash or food,
but feel free to browse amongst the clothes racks.'
(By this time, you know that you are in real trouble).
'& how about this nice green scarf to wrap around your neck,
& you can have this brown pair of elasticised slacks
& this orange cardigan.
It's a bit small & it's got some buttons missing,
but you said, that you were flat-broke,
always in here, crying poor-mouth,
besides, you need to lose a bit of weight around the heart
& beggars can't be choosers.'

My mother liked to see me walk around Melbourne
with the backpacks of tinned food from St Vinnies
& the Brotherhood of St. Lawrence.
She thought it was okay, when at one
place, they asked me to thread bolts
onto a piece of string, for $3 an hour.
Which was good, because I never did like
anything that she liked & so I woke up.

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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