Bukowski's Bluebird

 

Two little girls are entranced by a strawberry milkshake each
And I must admit, so am I
They come in former pickle jars
Some fluffy shit on top the milk, 
doubling the height of the drink
Various candies poking in and out of the pink fluff
But the pure joy in a child's face when she yanks a strip of candy from the jar
That's what caught my eye
I try and remember myself at that age -- five maybe
All happy memories, fun times, playing, laughing
Joyful. We moved house when I was five
and now I wonder if I never forgave my parents that, 
21 years post-hoc
After five until I was a teen, I remember nothing but the broadest detail
Birth of brother, sister, deaths of grandfathers,
Trips to Sydney,
Almost drowning in a pool,
And none of childlike joy, 
The bliss of demolishing a ridiculously pink milkshake full of candy and fluffy shit
And now the heartache that seems my constant ground of being
Has made my heart so tough
I have a bluebird in my heart like Bukowski, 
I never let him out
But sometimes he pecks at the inside of my heart
trying to emerge as a baby from an egg
But I can't have that
To let him out so he sores too far 
Swoops too deep
Flies too quick
I munch my cheesecake silently
Sip on my coffee
and blithely stare at the spidery cracks on my laptop screen
 
                                                       - Pakenham
                                                         July, 2018

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