Coral Hull: Prose: Notes From The Big Park: February 18th, 1998, The Raven Carries A Broken Wing

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

CORAL HULL: NOTES FROM THE BIG PARK
FEBRUARY 18TH, 1998, THE RAVEN CARRIES A BROKEN WING

I always see the city trucks that transport animal corpses, strings and ropes of icy flesh shivering along the red crimson bones in the open air, when I am despairing it feeds the despair, I am so tired I want to pass away, but I am too tired to die, but never too tired to suffer, everything in this park goes on suffering when it has its wings broken, a smashed bird is never too tired for a painful shuffle along the bitumen, mental pain is like a coal black locomotive jamming down through the soul's frail light, it jams down through the central tunnel of your body trying to put the brakes on, but it comes jamming anyway, like an arrow the weight and force of a sledgehammer that has struck you through the skull and is splitting your body in half, the big night train takes its course, you crumble and shake but old tunnels were meant to last and your soul it suffers long, I was walking my dogs through the park, the heat on my red polar neck and the traffic with the sun on it reflects on the looming gulf war in the middle east, tens of thousands will die, this makes me feel thirsty and tired, I didn't know that my lover was in the dental hospital, where he'd paid twenty dollars to have his teeth experimented on, after six hours of students trying to place a filling inside the tooth, he'd had enough, three days later he was eating some soft wholegrain toast with syrup and he spat out the filling, it looked like a big gold nugget that one might pan twenty years for out at Ballarat and never get, he said, 'that's the end of that episode of suffering,' he was back to the hole in his tooth, the raw nerve, and when he complained about the torture, they had said to him 'well, what can you expect for nothing?,' money brought so little wealth to the world, it had the capacity to bring heroic money but it didn't, it was what people did with that money when they looked into their own hearts that mattered, that was where money lost its capacity and where it went wrong, in the hearts and minds of people, as for me I could expect a lot for nothing, I could expect god for nothing, what can you expect for nothing?, god, what you expect for a billion dollars?, nothing, i looked into the traffic shining metallic from the park and thought how brutal this place is, no one gives a fuck around here, then I saw something to feed that thought, I always hoped to be proven wrong, that's why I voiced it so often, I wanted the big park to argue with my negativity, then I saw the poor black crow with the broken wing, hopping along in pain followed by some other little brown birds, its once majestic black wing dragging on the grass like a limp arm or a good quality black coat, he was hopping around under the cars in the traffic, he was going fast on his tiny crooked legs to try and escape his pain, all the other crows within his hearing range had flown off, his heart range extended further out but was detecting nothing, by this stage in his development, how could I hope to help him like I had hoped they would have?, I'm not a fucking crow, I can't speak his language, or tell him what this place is like or what it will do to him, I can only take him to Lort Smith animal hospital where they will kill him, that's if I catch him before a car does, but today I was too tired to help him, I had two dogs, one had a slipped disc the other had fleas, I had a migraine and a lot on my shoulders, we were all dirt poor, I hadn't eaten for some time, I'm not making an excuse, what I did was wrong, I was simply too tired to assist on this occasion, as I walked away I knew that no one would help that intelligent sensitive bird and that there was no one to help him but me, I went home and took a pain killer, I know he would be shivering out there in the dark now, the dark pain of the wing shining and waiting for relief, there is no one to help him at night on the streets of North Melbourne and I am too tired, 'I'm fucking sorry,' I said, although he can't hear me and even if he could he wouldn't understand me, for as much as I wanted to mend the broken wing, I was unable to enter the world of the suffering raven, a billion green parks before us, but neither of us could fly, we are a universe apart by now.

    

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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