2. Leaving The Factory
my mother said, 'they'll have to drag me out
of that place, when i leave that place it will
be on a stretcher,' i said, 'what you would
have fainted?', 'no, broken neck,' then aunty
karen, who had also worked in the factory,
got chronic fatigue syndrome, mum said, 'it's
like aids but you don't die,' & you can't get a
pension for it because the government doesn't
believe it exists, so it's back on the dole, to be
the 'get a bloody job you bludger' & 'the
dole cheat', on the work ethic pop said, 'you
get in the 1 job & you stay in it', i worked 3
jobs for 40 years & now i own a house, you
crawl on your hands & knees if that's what it
takes to get there, otherwise don't complain
when the money runs out, get going, i put my
nose down people's toilets 6 dollars a day for
10 years, 30 days a month, no days off, dad
said, 'i didn't want to be a fucking shit-
kicker,' they run around like ants down there,
eat, sleep, shit & work, fuck that, i'm not
fucken working, only stupid people work,' he
was a detective for 23 years, before heading
outback, to be the ex-cop on the riverbank,
when i said i would like to paint, aunty karen
said, 'i'll buy you a cheap packet of textas
from k-mart so you can draw me a picture,
it'll give you something to do,' i thanked her
for her understanding, her eyes fading to
grey, her frail mentality & hair as white as
winter, my brother dale works at tiptop, bakes
the bread, he has done the family proud, they
would rather eat the bread than listen to a
poem, on holidays he takes his guns & mates
& shoots the desert dead, as of recent times
his back is giving out on him, he's only in his
twenties but he's loyal to the company,
doesn't own a house, but brought a nice
sports car & other rubbish at k-mart, he's
been to perth a couple of times to gamble at
the casino & tasmania, i said to dad, 'i want
to be a poet, but i don't know what to do,' he
said, 'just do what ever makes you happy,' so
i got the sack from woolworths for giving
away too much money, i fell down on the
arnotts family assorted in the biscuit asile
with a bad hangover, i rang dad who came &
picked me up & took me to the pub for a hair-
o-the-dog, both in our dark glasses at ten in
the morning, at least it had been a good night,
although i couldn't remember much of it, i
tried to be factory fodder, mum took me in,
loaded to the eyeballs on amphetamine, so
that i would never think of leaving, but i kept
falling down & started to hallucinate, i lost 30
pound & got very sick, the boss became
suspicious when i wrote poetry on the slow
machines, in the end i sewed beads onto
pillow cases, forgetting who i was & what to
think & so i didn't, i didn't want to be a
failure at life, i wanted to be a happy shit-
kicker, just like others in my family, i thought
perhaps it is genetic & i'll naturally be one
without trying, but it didn't seem to be working |
