The Ones To Blame

THE ONES TO BLAME


Alice Springs!
Big, broad black man
shoulders touch
the auto-slide doors
so quick is his rush
to take the shopping plaza
inexpectant
thundering his guns
yelling "Arsehole"
at the top of his voice
followed by
"Fucking Arsehole"
as if his meaning
were not clear.

Take-away people
at Styrofoam containers
and cafe sitters in
their Styrofoam cups
shrink away from
the thoroughfare

as a lightning
of accusation
forks out
into a sharper
"Fucking Arsehole"

White-folk chins
shake, point up
and cower away
get down to cover
as if they know
themselves
to be the usually
accused as
the black man was once
the usual suspect.

But one old couple
sit as if deaf to
all demanded fears
-mousy sort-of middlemen
for a Higher Power
maybe, and yet, and yet!
as if asking why
they should give kudos
to acknowledge grief
or whatever it is
that doesn't begin
with them.

but He, he then
looms over them
at their momentary table
and, holding back his might
as if that is
somehow intimidated
by their fear-refusal
looks hard at them
and makes such faces
(as he takes it hard)

blinking in incredulity
he still finds the tongue
they hear with its broken
cry as he tries to break
the sonic boom simply
by yelling over
and beyond them
"Arsehole, Arsehole"
- as if somebody
somewhere must
be to blame.

and then he
simply breaks
off and is gone.


- based on an incident witnessed in the Mall, Alice Springs, August 10, 1995