Fetch Me My Water And Gun Poem by Ross Mackay

Cario, Cario, Cario




I heard the bang, but my head was turned,
I didn't see the fire

Over the buffalo hills,
Heaven holds the waterline.
We kept walking after a breakfast of cigarettes-
I listened to the white telephone line
And I picked flowers only to hand them over.
We went to the city and counted the red bricks.
My life on the couch-
The black and white photos,
The snake starlights
And the still-moving sea,
The silent thunder with no rain.

Fetch me my water Cario,
Fetch me my pen and paper.
Fetch me my bread and grits.
Fetch me my family and place them around the table
So I can tell them I love them really
And toss pegs in the centre
And with them I count can the tepid souls
Unrested.

My time had come again.
A feast was laid out for me-
I refused it all.
Thunder, and still no rain.
Unborn children roaming through the fireland.
Unborn children singing in the absence of air.
Son of man.
Son of man.
Son of man in diamonds he counts and discards.
Son of man he writes and speaks like a soldier.
Son of man- the deadtime has come
When the clocks drip over tablecloths
And people count the raindrops of candles in their hands
And feast on mere bread.
Son of man can hear the grass fading.

Sweating on the couch-
I can hide nothing.
We're out of cigarettes.
We scrape the pavement for more than we can provide
With our burnt cinders we use for cold.
The golden dustbowl and thunder
And the rattling of lungs.
I'm coming apart.
The happy faces.

The moon in her golden age.
What shall we do on our return?
We can write?
Write long
As long as we like!
Doesn't that sound fun?
Not anymore. I think I'm growing old.
My hands are aged.
The wind is dry like the sea,
One can barely stand in it.
It's those flies.
It's more than that, honestly.
The thunder and no rain?
It's a sign.
I used to count butterflies and get caught in their dancing.
I was younger then,
Without the dead sand and the eyes.
Those eyes,
Thousands of orange eyes
Which watched me while I was on the balcony.
I've lost it.
Cario, I need my gun.
We're not innocent, not like we used to be.
My gun Cario,
It's time.