Auckland Poetry.com

The Omen

I heard the sound of a plane looked up
a big carrier going north, it was white
and had an orange tail.

In one of its portholes my brother sat
looking out he had a serious face and
I think he was day-dreaming.

I waved he took his glasses off polished,
and put them back on, politely waved
too, but I don’t think he saw me clearly.

The plane vanished into a cloud of fine
woven air, I listened to its silence till a
crowing crow in a tree broke the hush.

I closed the door of my dirty old flat,
I went outside for a short evening stroll.
I bought some cheap hooch and a condom instead.
I’d only arrived when I heard a phone call.
It was so persistent, so deafening loud.
Who failed to forget me? I wanted to know.
I took a deep breath for a desperate shout,
Picked up the receiver: “Hello! Hello?”
Just silence. An error? Wrong number? Or what?
A quick thought of you. Stupid me! Would you care?
I started to feel all the spirits I’d bought
Dissolve in my blood, neutralizing despair.
In less than an hour my neighbours arrived
And asked me for something they needed. Okay.
I gave them a condom and bade them hot night -
I wouldn’t have sex for some number more days.
I spent the next hour listening to moans,
But envy and anger were still neutralized.
I’d made through the day, and I’d done it alone.
The neighbours calmed down. I closed my eyes.