from Poor
21. Charity begins at home
Charity begins at home. For those that live in one.
22. There Are a Lot Worse Off
There are a lot more worse off than you, I am told.
But because I care about those apart from myself,
that only makes me feel worse, than before.23. The Weather for Poverty
Poverty reminds me of things drenched:
wind chill factor, grey sky.
Never in my wildest dreams, did I associate
grey poverty with poetry.24. Where Poverty Hides
Poverty hides in me.
It has taught me to keep it a secret,
because no one gives a fuck.
If they detect a weakness,
they are likely to give you a boot
in the arse, right over the gap.
Being poor, you are heavier,
more prone to falling.
Once you hit the ocean
your heart drops like a sinker.Poverty rests heavily.
Trying to hold onto your dignity, where it
rests like a soft cushion beneath the heart.
With each step & with each exhalation
your dignity escapes you.
Breathe more slowly, afraid of detection.25. Fear of the Seasons
With weather like they have here,
you need money to keep warm,
to rug up, eat more, to be indoors.
The tropics are better for the poor.26. What Were Your Dreams:
What were your dreams?
And why did you let them go?27. Poverty Falls on Deaf Ears
Get rid of the mirror
so that you don’t see
yourself
grow old with poverty.
Burnt out eyes, lips down
turned
the dead
weight around your neck.
Take out the mascara &
lipstick.
Put on your best disguise,
don’t cry,
sit cross legged with your
stomach
held in, so that whoever
you are visiting
doesn’t hear
the hunger pains.
Don’t tell them anything.
Poverty
falls on deaf ears.28. The Buddhists Who Wouldn’t Feed Me
The Buddhist Institute in Melbourne wouldn’t feed me.
It was $10 a plate of food that smelt so good.
Unfortunately I couldn’t afford it. I almost wept but couldn’t.
That night after the big spiritual get together,
it took a member all of her compassion to give me a lift home.
Because it was late at night, in the dead of winter, cloudless.
I was so hungry I almost froze to death.
I felt like my insides were burning, full of frost.
My cheeks were like ice along the railway yard roofs.29. You Don’t Know What You’re Missing Out On:
If you got money, you would probably waste a lot at first.
If blue skies appear suddenly one morning
They would be too bright for you to see specifics,
to connect with. Bird, wire, kite, air plane and cloud.If you’ve never had them, you don’t know what you’re missing out on.
If you suddenly have it, you won’t recognize it, so it will slip past you.
When the greyness comes again, you will feel strangely comfortable.
“If someone gave me a million dollars, I wouldn’t know what to do.”
Nicki said, “You’d know what to fucking do with it all right….”30. Poverty of the Fun Pier Shark
There was a special machine at marineland at
manly, where the carpet sharks drifted across
the concrete bottom swimming pool & all the
ocean life was so sleepy that it appeared
dead, the echo of people’s voices rippling the
water along the tired old hides, when i shot
the grey nurse shark in the machine in the
amusements section with the harpoon, i saw
the way that it twirled on the spot & the blood
spewed out like tomato sauce, nanny urged
me on, to “get him” “get him”, if you shot a
certain amount of sharks there was a free
game, enabling you to shoot them all over
again, without inserting more money, i shot
as hard as i could standing on tip toes,
sometimes the tension was so much that i just
shot haphazardly with my eyes closed,
gripping the trigger for dear life, my stomach
nervous with the fear of not shooting enough,
even with my eyes closed, i could hear the
death toll of the sharks in the machine, as
there was strange liquid screaming noise
that came through the speaker as they twisted
into their own blood on the spot, not once in
all the years of returning to marineland did i
win a free game, but it was not for lack of
trying, i just couldn’t seem to get to a point of
winning, i was frightened inside that there
was a possibility that i would never win at
anything, i was afraid of sharks when my nan
& i caught the manly ferry back to sydney &
in the george’s river near liverpool, where
they drifted up into freshwater to eat dogs, &
along the jetty near sandy point, those long
stretches of weedy dark water beneath
riverside trees adrift with jellyfish, when my
aunty’s gold ring that my uncle brought her
fell off, & i saw it disappear into the stony
green dark floating down amongst the jelly
blubbers & sting rays, i was frightened of that
too, i was frightened of facing this kind of life
without a harpoonCopyright 2002 Coral Hull