CARIN SMEATON
Rocketman
when they was young her husband didn’t mind so much the mole on
her back was benign enuf he thought a birthmark a bit bumpy like the moon’s
crater shaped like evolution like part of an ancient forest got pulled rough outta the
earth by it’s roots by a jack-hammer implodin into space leaving a ruin of stars for
scars it cd of been smoother he wantd to tell her but by the time he’d toucht down in
her night bedroom he only saw stars pohutukawa at its peak and from a
certain angle in a certain light he thought he cud see the whole-dam universe wit all its
lil eyes lookin down on him in selective admiration
tho he weren’t no scientist man she’d call him rocketman at dusk
when he stood behind her encompassing her in the twilight of his breath (warm
enuf to melt a secret or 2) he told her nothin else wud do til one night wen the moon vibes
was flooding their bed wit the extraterrestrial light of an x file he noticed her mole
had grown rougher wetter denser wit the jagged edge of a twig here n
there sticking this way n that outta her skin splitting his lip making him
bleed makin him see the sap runnin down her back for the first time and the
last
he never much lookt at it after that but when her mother died of breast
cancer rocketman (kinder than morphine) got her a mitsubishi fridge a brand new
one cos he felt sorry for her sorry enuf for him to buy her the latest
mitsubishi cold as hell like mars he said its polar blast so spacious she cud
sneak into it wit some room leftover to wriggle round in (after u took all the shelves
out) & if she stayed there 4 long enuf she cud (wen she stepped out) shock her
mole into thinking the season was warmer than it actually was and her back wud thaw
into a wild weed of wonder lapping up a synthetic spring
rocketman didnt exactly say she shud shave the bark off (for their
marriage & for a much smoother mole) but she noticed how he hesitated how
he cast his eyes down & oh dem scratches on his face so she twistd her
arm saw in hand hand on hip & hackt the hectic outta it (in a surge of a stab
at self surgery) but her mole jus grew n grew she knew oozing of sap smelling
of regret
rocketman eventually left their bed for the sofa the sofa for the
porch the porch for his out of town business trips & she’d help him pack then
go back n stretch-out on the front lawn smoking a lotus (lit by the rays of the low red
sun) & wonder whether he was up there as high as her watching her a
tiny spekk on da earth waiting for her weeds to shoot thru like halley’s in the
eighties knowing he cud never slow em down so wat was the point he never
gave a shit anyways he never got lonely in space he’d say he even lookd forward to
it (he’d tell her) but she lookd forward 2 it more (she knew)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carin Smeaton’s first book Tales of the Waihorotiu has just been published by Titus Books.