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GUNS, DEAD GOATS & MY BLACK HEART
2. Guns In The Townhouse Garage
there were about five varieties of illegal firearm stored in the
townhouse garage, but i was cautioned by dad & mum, both of who
would have gotten into trouble, but for dale's sake they had put
themselves into this situation, dale is sadistic & short tempered
amongst other things, today the firearms are legal, the law has
helped him along, in the humid townhouse in liverpool, where all the
guns are stored, everything is legal now, whilst i was writing about
the extinction of red kangaroos from the brewarrina district, dale
took the firearms out with some mates, he was looking for things to
shoot, he had recently split up with his girlfriend & was feeling a bit
edgy, i prayed silently, which had more power?, shooting or poetry?
dad said that they never got anything, this time anyway, but i was
devastated, sometimes the gun is mightier than the pen, i don't
know whether dad said this to make me feel better, or because that
in reality, brewarrina, which is where he lives, is now so barren &
devoid of any life that there was nothing to shoot, similarly when i
look into dale's eyes, i find this same shot out barrenness, so prefer
to focus on his forehead, once i made the mistake of trying to hug
him & he smacked me away, now having dropped all expectations of
blood ties, i am no longer hurt, but the animals out at brewarrina,
who don't know any better, fall victim, as dale irons out the land
into that same emotional flatness that he feels inside, but alas no
australian animals left to shoot, effectively this would have meant
that these blokes, or 'old high school friends & work mates' whom
dad labels as 'boring', would have gone back to the western suburbs
of sydney disappointed, with the guns loaded & tensions still on the
rise, the guns would have then been wrapped in cloth & stored back
in the townhouse garage, i knew both the guns & them well enough,
to know that for a time their fingers would be sweaty & itching,
even left alone for a few days there would be a certain amount of
energy unreleased, built up in those guns, they would be twitching
away inside the cloth in the dark garage of the townhouse, if they
were still loaded, one would most likely blow out the small window,
the garage will be never be the same with guns stored in it, i should
have dobbed them all in & i would have saved a few lives of animals
at least, but something very stupid occurred inside me, as if i was
bound to some weird family loyalty, which could mean, that i will
have ultimately put my own life at risk, my brother is likely to lose it
completely one day & will shoot anything, he is not intelligent & he
hates me, this is not a good combination, strangely, he is also a
favourite of the family, he fits in well, gives the most expensive
Christmas gifts, has a good decent job in a bakery, has bought an
expensive car, takes the newspapers around to my grandparents'
every week, but look at his leg jumping like a jack hammer under
the table, listen closely to his conversation, if you don't believe me
talk about sexuality & throw in some compassion for him to respond
to, he seems socialised but, this is exactly the type that will do it,
he will send you a birthday card if you have sent him one first, has a
few girlfriends but never for long, brawls at discos, is a user of legal
drugs, he's my brother, but as a human being, i do not like him much |
