63. i walk around with a dead weight inside, that feels like a shovel itching to dig his grave
if my father is reincarnated, he wants to come back as a bottle of rum, until then, he goes away each time to die, where he can never be found, if he survives, he says 'i almost died again last week, cut me leg open out on a property with an axe, the bloodclots went up through me body, on the way to me heart, it was close', i say 'dryin' out again dad?', he says 'yeah', each time dad is rushed to hospital, i walk around with a dead weight inside, that feels like a shovel itching to dig his grave, he has prepared me for this task over a period of many years' not knowing that his absence is the worst thing i can think of, my grandfather tells my brother, dale, 'you better put a few grand aside for a funeral', but i've already told him about the bullant's nest, all i need is a bit of strength spurred on by rage & a large wheelbarrow, this is the way i will bury my father, i've had many years experience, of dragging his corpse around, carrying the load of a man turned monster by lack of self-discipline, a death wish & doctor's prescriptions, the medical industry experimented on him, he unwittingly donated his body to science, his life has been a slow suicide, as a child i watched him doing it, & the lesson was absorbed, at twin rivers he fell down by the phone on drugs when i left, 'dad, can you hear me? do you want your ashes to go down the darling river or do you want to be buried in the cemetery?,' he says 'don't fucken bother with cremation, you've got to do the burning down in dubbo', there is a pause, i had hoped he would prefer the river, but i think he wants a proper funeral with a coffin after all, lastly he says, 'don't worry about it, your brothers 'ill pay for it' |
