when mum went into hospital for her hysterectomy
dad looked after us & did the cooking/ that night
in the kitchen he burnt our pies under the griller/
he was scraping the black tops off them into the
kitchen sink/ the animal flesh still frozen inside/
i said 'dad you don't grill pies'/ he threw the
knife at me so that it grazed my shoulder/ when
we went to visit mum in hospital dad chased me
around the bed trying to hit me/ mum said 'gary
stop it' but she was too drugged up to rouse
herself properly/ we all thought she was going
into hospital for the varicose veins in her legs/
but it was also for a hysterectomy/ whilst she was
in hospital we made shit bombs out of pal, dog shit
& toilet paper & lit them in steel dog food cans &
put them on the front verandah of the vietnamese
neighbours down the road/ we threw rocks on
a roof & a red ute pulled out & drove across the
oval after us/ someone holding a shotgun out
the window/ the day that liverpool council laid
down marble stones it was like a white christmas/
the strong smooth pebbles felt good in the palm
absorbing the heat of the day/ some had red &
blue veins running through them & we took the
prettiest ones home/ the biggest ones were used
on the street for throwing/ over the weekend the
whole street was covered in marble like hail that
didn't melt/ we thought we were camouflaged in
our cubby house in the vacant block next door
after smashing a few more council windows/ that
afternoon all the kids took off down to the creek
near the storm water drain pipes & waded in/
amongst it all the gentle movement with frogs &
tadpoles/ we took them home & let the tadpoles
change into frogs in mum's clear glass mixing
bowls/ we caught skinks & butterflies to hold
them for a moment/ collected little animals in
hopes of mutual nurturing
