Poetry: Working At The Rear

D’you know where I am to put this one gear?

I only heard father orating at the rear, with me in his garage. I was a kid, back then.
No, Pa, I don’t think I know, Pa, and though even if I did—
He says, I said only to come if you could help me, son. He throws the gear away From his own motorcar.
Stop. It’s only one gear, Pa—
And this bloody one, he points at it and says, motorcar will fuck you over. It is a half done mistake, son.
Stop! Stop what? Why might a father
like you, Pa, ask me, Pa, your only son for aid?
I growled at my father working at the rear, and knew back then, with me in his garage,
I wasn’t a kid.

Jay Carmichael

creative

300-101   400-101   300-320   300-070   300-206   200-310   300-135   300-208   810-403   400-050   640-916   642-997   300-209   400-201   200-355   352-001   642-999   350-080   MB2-712   400-051   C2150-606   1Z0-434   1Z0-146   C2090-919   C9560-655   642-647   100-101   CQE_Exam   CSSLP  

Catalyst has been the student publication of RMIT University since 1944. We may be older than your parents but we’re still going strong!

More Stories
Postcards From London: The Big Smoke