Interactions

                 She Said – I Said – She Said

She said, “My! Richard, you have such good skin.

It makes you look much younger than you really are.

What do you use on it?”

I said, “I just wash it with soap and water.”

She said, “Oh, no – you shouldn’t do that!

Soap is so bad for your skin!

It ages it terribly!”

She said, “You look like you’ve been putting on some weight.

How much do you weigh?”

I said, “I dunno. I never weigh myself.”

She said, “Oh, no! That’s what anorexics always say!”

I suppose I should have told her

that I just don’t give a shit

about that kind of shallow crap,

and that I’d rather use my mind

than swallow that checkout-mag shit whole,

but I’m not that sort of person,

so I didn’t.

She said, “Well, if you don’t cook meat at home,

are you a vegetarian?”

I said, “Oh, I eat fish and birds.”

She said, “What? You eat birds?”

I said, “Yeah, y’know, chicken,

and turkey when I can afford it.”

She said, “They’re not birds! They’re poultry!”

I suppose I should have asked her

if she worked for the

National Euphemism Association,

but she was old,

and I’m not that kind of person,

so I didn’t.

             Parental Protection

I was minding a small gaggle

of small boys – six and seven year olds, mostly –

who were enjoying themselves

by running amok

in a small neighbourhood park.

One of their favoured activities

was climbing a retaining wall

that was maybe four metres high.

When they made it to the top

the more agile and confident ones

climbed back down backwards;

the others climbed over a short chain-link fence

onto a streetside footpath

and then circled around back into the park.

The mother of one of them showed up

and, horrified, ordered her son

to stop this dangerous activity.

He just said, “No!” and kept climbing.

She started haranguing him about it,

raising the spectre of being encased in plaster.

He reached the top,

circled around, and started back up the wall

to the tune of his mum’s orders to the contrary

and further dire warnings.

I just watched, smiling only slightly.

   Conditions of Employment

When people who’ve been my boss

have realised that I was more

intelligent and educated

than they were,

they loved being my boss more,

but hated me.

         Coin of the Realm

I’m afraid that I have to say

that my experience of interacting

with other people

has convinced me that cheap talk

is the coin of the realm.

                   Almost Floating

Within the space of two days

I became completely alienated

from, first, my best friend,

who had actually been my former best friend

for some time, anyway,

and then from my lover,

who had actually been my former lover

for some time, anyway.

Both situations went down the gurgler

in a froth of mutual finger-pointing

too tedious to detail,

but reconciliation seemed most unlikely in either case.

The following day I felt strangely liberated,

and, even more strangely,

almost serene for the first time I could remember.

In time reconciliation did take place in both cases,

but my sense of otherworldly detachment

remained,

and has served me well,

as I am only a thing that floats, anyway.

                    Martin and Me

Although we work well together artistically

and have similar views of our society and culture,

Martin and I are far from Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum.

He prefers tea, and is serious about it;

I prefer coffee, and treat it as a drug.

He enjoys tobacco;

I can’t abide its pong.

He prefers anglicised pronunciation variants;

I prefer those of the language of origin.

He’s gregarious and convivial, with easy social skills;

I’m reclusive and distrustful, with deficient social skills.

He’s knowledgeable about botany and birds;

I’m an indoorsman.

His mental processes are basically mathematical;

mine are basically verbal.

He prefers French food and wine to Italian;

I prefer Italian to French,

although we both prefer both to English.

He prefers butter;

I prefer marge.

He’s a keen angler;

I can recall catching only one fish in my life.

He was born in the early 60s;

I was born in the mid 1940s.

He’s an integral part of our community;

I’m an outsider all the way.

       My Lounge Furniture

After many years I still enjoy

the aesthetics of my lounge suite.

The legs and frames are dark wood

with stylised leaf-motif designs

carved into them.

The backs and the table’s top

are of dark-stained wicker

woven into abstract-motif patterns.

The upholstery is bold floral designs

against a black background.

Somebody once told me

disparagingly

that the wood carving had been done

by automated carving machines

and that it definitely wasn’t hand-carved,

implying that this made it inferior.

My reaction was,

so the fuck what?

I like it.

        An Impossible Situation

Whether teasingly or inadvertently

or by way of an unintentional misunderstanding –

when a lover creates a confrontation

with a possible or imputed competitor

for that lover’s affections,

it creates an impossible situation.

To show jealousy is uncool,

as that implies possessiveness.

Not to show jealousy is also uncool,

as that implies indifference.

           To A Former Beauty

There was a time when

all you had to do was wave,

and smile that thousand-megawatt smile

and any male driver who could see you

would temporarily lose control of his vehicle.

There was a time when

your boyfriend was an advertising creep

and dope dealer

and teenaged you would rollerskate into his house

wearing only a bit more than a glassy expression

and help yourself to some of his coke

when he was doing a deal,

and all he’d do  

was laugh softly and wryly and shake his head.

There was a time when

you had your pick of jobs

that just required that you be gorgeous,

and you’d joke about how much work it was

to be pretty all day.

There was a time when

you needed no make-up

and could eat whatever,

and however much of it,

you wanted,

and it wouldn’t show

on your six-foot frame.

But that was thirty-five years ago.

Are you still making the most

of whomever you are now?

Are you contributing to your world?

Or are you obsessed with what you eat,

and resting on your L’Oréals?

          Neither A Random Sample

Being addicted to reading mysteries,

many of the books with which I spend

my now-plentiful leisure hours

have as protagonists

complex, sensitive,

dedicated, violence-averse,

utterly sincere cops.

It makes me wonder, though,

since most of the real cops

I’ve actually known,

personally –

neighbours and friends-of-friends –

have been more or less

unmitigated dickheads.

                                          Deprecation

She said, ‘How could you manage to say exactly the wrong thing just then?’

He answered, ‘I dunno. I just fucked up, I guess.’

She said, ‘You seem to fuck up an awful lot when it comes to that.’

He said, ‘I guess I’m just no damned good and never was and never will be.’

She said, ‘Why do you put yourself down like that all the time?’

He said, ‘I guess it’s because I’m just no damned good and never was and never …’

She said, ‘Stop it! It’s not healthy!’

He said, ‘I’m just agreeing with you, that’s all’

She said, ‘Don’t go blaming your poor self-esteem on me! It’s your

          choice!’

He said, ‘Well, I don’t wanna argue with you, no matter how much you wanna argue with me.’

She said, ‘Are you trying to pick a fight?’

He said, ‘I think I’d better go now.’