Jack Cox - Dodge Rose

someone will take me to a matinee one day. it was mostly girls in the pantomimes those days doing all the parts the lovers and the dwarfs. one time naomi sanguinetti came out at the picture prologue doing handsprings and the elastic on her bloomers broke and her pants fell down but she just said never mind boys, ive got small ones underneath and they roared with laughter.

smell of the house, old habit. metamorphosis. ass. sweet vegetable individual how i must have been taught to think of it. is that me in the engraffed payne. mother used to say put sugar in the water theyll last longer. or m. more kindly blossoming. coming home with a neighbour always get something odd to eat. i had something i wanted. dad and mr harwood someone i havent seen before smoking in the living room. more the same frequent. it was the big not the little one then. he will not come again. weer een man met eeren. geen ketter, sonder letter. it oughta be de rose, you know what i mean, it was die rose dat got him. an ejection in your own home. dont kid you might have almost got one, down the line, hearthless walls. absurd, mere proles, quite illegal. even if it is too late to put up the chinamans sign if you know what i mean. it was ad morganaticam as it were. shouldve kept it to himself. well its bolted and he far under. factum infectum. how old. did you ever read a book by a certain wilhelm fliess. awful but fact is any later and you might have had the paraphernalia knocking on the door one day. born with your affects, as it were. avida manus. with a john a nokes on each arm into the bargain. nothing is ever set in stone even if you will jam latin on us all afternoon. least of all, least of all let me insist. gaining ground as we speak. by the time were pushing. not heard of the double a. p. a. you will. you tell me when this place is void of all present characters if they who have nothing wont have arguments enough to spread across the criminal frequency, as you said. what waste. just one will do. dad and mother eating alone. together. smell of ox heart. dad looks like he wishes he. late night shopping. poor man knocking out play fiddle play half an hour before closing time. you will pay the fare says mother. i will not have her putting it on the grocers bill and she is not going to do it into the new bed.

practice practice practice. i am running out. if i. for ever and ever. impossible to tell even in review if you were getting anywhere it just happens one day and if you are grown up enough you say to yourself well thank god pal there is no going back.

its mechanical. menace. anguish. catastrophe. rest grimace. thats the professional opinion. sides. one or the other. not the subtle glitter in the pineapple anyway no reason to make a big deal of it. odd to have kept it up for entire phrases though. old thing playing on the childrens restaurant. in those days we called the tivoli the opera house. dad has brought mother a catalogue of magnificent furnishings english crystal cut glass and rare china hall marked silver & finest quality english electroplate exquisite silk persian carpets and rugs finest quality english axminster carpets costly curtains and drapes magnificent statuary exquisite specimen china full concert grand pianoforte in silver sycamore inlaid case by chappel, london valuable edison diamond disc recreation phonograph magnificent old chippendale furniture hall, library, smoke & card room furnishings luxurious bishops settees & easy armchairs valuable wireless sets home movie machines aeroplane and other valuable cameras important oil paintings and water colour drawings most artistic bedroom appointments and the whole of the costly effects & domestic requisites throughout hopewood house thornton street, darling point (off darling point road) to be sold by auction on wednesday & thursday, 12th & 13th december, 1928 each day at eleven oclock am precisely. under instructions from and as directed by permanent trustee co. of n.s.w. ltd. and vero read, esq. trustees in the estate of the late ebbeus horden james r. lawson valuers. what do you say. you remember how disappointed you were to miss out on beach manor in may. this is your chance. i will sign and date the cheque. there is not a woman in the world whose taste inspires greater confidence in me. take the little one. leave early and go slowly, it is sweltering outside and you are dressed to soak the sun up. you know i wish you would not. well. i have not come to make a debate. what do you say. from under her misery she raised a tranquil head, frown sliding blandly over her husbands face to the booklet in his outstretched right hand

we go past the mouth of onslow avenue then ithaca road and down into rushcutters bay park. chin up, chick. itll be enough them calling your mother a wreck. they used to put boys in the ring of sydney stadium with chaff bags over their heads desperados let fly soon as they were bumped. and there were stadium officials on the sidelines to poke them with prop sticks and broom handles. same ones who sold fruit cases for the crowd to stand on at the eucharist congress, dirty fit little mongrels, wild kids, out to make a living, started to see them everywhere, pass you in the sweat, hardly seem to touch the ground, always bobbing up in a crowd, voices like girls, hands.

and then it is up onto new beach road and is it better to take loftus road as long as you dont make a bad turn and end up on greenoaks avenue because we are not completely ourselves this morning or keep following the old road to thornton. what number it doesnt say. dont suppose we can miss it. probably this end. there is a man in a double breasted suit waiting at the gate to the big old house between longwood and retford lodge when we get there. he tips his hat to mother. i am afraid children are not permitted on the grounds, at any time. she has left it too late to go and come back. there is only one thing to do. she rolls her. what does it matter. may i use your telephone.

in ten minutes x is walking over the road to the gate, also slowly but thats relative. she takes my hand and mother goes up the pathway into the house. where shall we go. would you like an ice cream. we are walking alongside the wrought iron fence and i point to a mulberry tree in the garden. you realise says x, even if we dont get caught in the act you will give yourself away screamingly. yes. yes. not a ghost of a chance. i was born to eat them. we keep going until we get to a low stone wall and x lifts me onto it then pulls the hem of her skirt between her legs and tucks it into her waistband and swings her leg over. we wait a moment to make sure the coast is clear then we backtrack to the mulberry tree. a sea creature flew out of it. i cant reach anything so x pulls down on a branch and we hear a funny voice like a movie. slow and tinny not like normal words at all. like that man in the first talkie done up mickey mouse with a body like a rubber band. what was. hands full of light.

ah hope yo gonna gimme one toots or ah might whistle.

shoot.

behind us someone with a garden hose wound around his shoulder is squelching out from between the geranium beds. doing sad labour in a strangers house. i dont mean the gardening i mean this rotten performance. what did mr george say about castles or the small ones, one, the great one. he lifted the edge of his cap and grinned. heard the rustle of your skirts against the leaves. you ladies must be here for the sell off. i believe the garden stays. we were gallant in those days.