We teach our kids
to have a smaller phone
a faster car
a bigger home
We teach our kids
to take what they can
Never mind if you stomp on
plant
animal or
man
Little do we know
the devastating result
will be that human life on Earth
will grind to an abrupt halt
© Kait King, 2015
Supine Exsanguinations – an Anthology of Verse
In the end
If I say that I don’t love you
will it make you stay
for another day
And if I pretend
that I really don’t care
would you want me more in the end
But the truth be told,
I cannot tell a lie
all of you just drives me
crazy
And for your love
I would surely die
Will you meet me there in the end
© Kait King, 2015
Cheater
In a bigamist dual
you fight in your cheating bed
Secret office glances
and secret bathroom head
At home it’s just too boring
you don’t want to fuck your wife
but if she finds out
It will ruin your life
© Kait King, 2015
Fused, but not at the hip
I was standing at the front desk, chatting to another work colleague and an awkward scrawny middle-aged man came up to the counter. I was in the watch-house at the Police Station. Being closest, I turned to talk to him. Behind me, I could feel everyone else cringe. I wasn’t sure why, but it dawned on me as I chatted with him to find out what he was here for, why the audible intake of air from my colleagues. I was just in work zone and had been troubleshooting all day.
Let me start from the beginning. When I turned up for work that morning – it was like 4 am or something horrific, being shift work. Anyway, we had three women and a man in our team that night and as shift changed over everyone caught up and swapped information – did the hand over thing. Of course we all gossiped about things we had dealt with, seen or heard that day, what the constables had been up to, failed at, succeeded in catching, blah blah blah and of course, some real oddities and this was one of them.
A young detective came into the office after his shift to catch up with us. I must say, he looked a little green around the gills but I didn’t think anything about it at the time. He gathered those of us who wanted to see (only myself and the guy I worked with), some evidential photographs of a case of abuse. It took a couple of seconds for him to get his personal screen and files up. He knew I was interested in the abuse of the vulnerable, certainly children, but the animals, handicapped and elderly were all in my sights and desperately needed help. So the photos upload to his screen and I take a second to understand what I’m looking at. I thought a burnt body initially and then realised she was on a gurney in a hospital with tubes and an oxygen mask swallowing her “White-walker”-type face. I turned to the detective and with a rather incredulous tone asked him if she was actually alive.
“She is,” he said, “she’s still alive. This woman’s son was supposedly looking after her. Somebody who managed to finally get into the house found her and called an ambulance.”
“I just can’t believe someone so thin is still sucking in air! And how old is she?” Her dirty, mottled skin was just managing to cling to the bones of her body. She was filthy – hadn’t been washed properly in years.
“She’s 92. When we got to the hospital they told us that it was a miracle. I personally think maybe not – poor woman. Her son hadn’t fed her properly or washed her, medical needs ignored. She had maggots crawling around in her vagina…”
“What the fuck! Are you serious man!?” I was mortified.
“I knew you’d love this case Kait,” he said smiling up at me from the desk chair. ” Not only that but her toes had fused themselves together – there was green mould and a stink you would never believe possible. She smelt dead but was breathing – the living dead, literally!” he looked quite pleased with himself at the reality of his reference.
“I’m absolutely stunned! So what did her son say…has he been arrested then?” I ask.
“No, not yet anyway – he’s coming in to be assessed by the psyche team and questioned. Apparently he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong…whatever!”
“Good grief! Who’s he been sleeping with if he thinks it’s normal for flies to come out of a woman’s hoohaa!” We had a bit of a giggle – it’s like that in the face of horror. Apparently she had gangrene as well, on her fingers and other extremities. One of the worst abuse cases I’ve ever seen and I’m sure many of the police – even seasoned ones – felt that way too.
So the day carried on and we had all sorts of shit hitting the fan – parolees, detainees, people who had lost kids, found kids, P cooks, drunken idiots, abusive situations – just the usual crap.
So anyway here is this awkward guy in front of me. I am my usual helpful self and ask him what I can do. He tells me he’s here for an interview with a certain detective. I contact the right detective to come and get him from the watch-house, in the meanwhile I say “So are you having a good day?” just to be polite and make his wait in a police station a little less awkward. I had no idea what he was here for – he could be being interviewed as a witness for all I knew. Well this was a trigger question for him as he just spilled his guts to me about how he had hurt his mother even though he was trying to look after her. He told me about the maggots and the mould – as if I was giving him the interview. It only took him a few minutes to vent his story and he stood quietly with his head down in front of my counter.
“How come you didn’t clean her or help her to clean herself?” I asked cautiously, making eye contact with him.
“Well….I….I….” he bumbled along.
“It’s OK,” I said “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…” I trailed off.
He looked pleadingly up at me and I could see tears peeking out of the corners of his eyes.
“I want to.” he whispered.
I kept quiet.
He took a deep breath in and said “That’s my mum y’know ? I don’t want to wash her there or her top chest or anything! It’s not right…I’m her son – not even a daughter – I couldn’t do it!” The tears fell off his face. After initially feeling slightly ill talking to him, I found I was feeling sorry for him.
“Hell, I can understand that.” And I certainly could.
“So can you tell me why she’s so thin then? Why didn’t you feed her anything?” I pushed on through because there must be some accountability here. How can he get out of this one? Surely if he’d fed her she wouldn’t look like this. I tried to keep the picture of the poor old woman in my head, the decrepit, stinking semi-corpse that was his mother, to give her justice and keep a strong mind in this.
“I tried – I tried everything but she wouldn’t eat anything! I tried to force her but she choked so badly I was afraid to give her anything…I know now that this was wrong…” he looked down at his shoes, the tears still rolling off his nose and landing on the stations’ loud carpet. “She was my mum and she used to beat the crap outta me if I talked back or didn’t do as she bid. So I listened to her when she shook her head away from the spoon or growled at me, I left her alone….I was scared…” A slipknot of snot was making it’s way out of his nose and I tried desperately to keep a gag down. I managed. I passed him a box of tissues gingerly – not wanting to touch his skin at all.
Thankfully the detective who was going to do the interview arrived and took him through the security doors to an interview room. I stood there for a moment and realised where the blame lay in this. Society, society was to blame. Yes, he was at fault for not contacting the hospital or some sort of care for his mother, but he didn’t know anyone would help him. Surely if his neighbours had just said hello once in a while to the slightly, strange, creepy guy he might not be suffering endless guilt as it dawns on him in his slow mind what he has actually done. And his mother would not have had to suffer the enduring starvation and pain she had. It is about accountability – but who is accountable? We call ourselves a welfare state but whose welfare are we really caring for? I consider this man and his mother both victims in this instance and a severe failure on our many organisations parts. He was charged with numerous offences relating to the abuse of the elderly. I wondered if he wanted to lay charges against his mum for what she had done to him – for the monster she had created in him who would become her living nightmare.
What’s really sad is he will more than likely end up like his mum did….
© Kait King, 2015
A lighter model….
I didn’t die
I’ve just upgraded
© Kait King, 2015
When you let me in
When we are
touching skin
when you have
let me in
With a dream-like
essence
I feel your
presence
the heat from
your skin
when you let me in
I know there
are no lies
I can see it
in your blue eyes
I can feel it
from your mouth
I can hear it in
your blazing skin
when you let me in
the goose bumps on
your flesh
and our kiss
can only express
we are so lost
it must be a sin
but only when
you let me in
© Kait King, 2015
At Lunch Today
At lunch today
I fell a little more
in love with you
Your smile grazes the
inside of my heart with
such passion
At lunch today
your blue eyes brighter
for seeing me
Sparkling over
sparkling water
with just a hint
of lemon
that cannot sour
our chemistry
At lunch today
while I watched you
talk
I followed your lips
watched your mouth
heard nothing
and thought just
about kissing
I love lunch with you
© Kait King, 2017
No matter what
No matter what you’re gonna say
I’ve gotta try and stay away
to keep my heart
my heart
You scream into my brain
like an uncontrolled speed train
I’ll go insane
I don’t even know my own name
No matter what I try and dream
you make me feel I am unseen
and it just stays the same
in the common denominator game
So we’re wasting all this time
ignoring all the signs
we sit in freeze frame
it just stays the same
I’m the common denominator
in the common denominator game
© Kait King, 2015
Summer Sunb0dies
I can hear the cicadas’
with their sliding
grinding legs
laughing kids
melting ice-creams
Clothes freshly dried
on a line
neatly pegged
That sun shine
warm tar
summer rain smell
That open-roofed car
chasing oceanic swells
Those exotic looking palms
lining Rodeo-type roads
giggling girls
in bikinis and curls
with their Summer Sunbodies on show
© Kait King, 2015
Say it – No…mean it
You say the words
I want to hear
But your actions tell me
loud and clear
that you don’t even
want me here
© Kait King, 2015
The Master
I’m not the hero I used to be
but I’ve mastered the art of
Insanity
© Kait King, 2015
A present for a poo – for doggie lovers
It doesn’t matter what you do
chew up my panties
leave a present that’s a poo
bury personal items
dig a deeper hole
drag cow dung inside
pee on the stripper pole
rip up the newspaper
before it’s even read
take up most of the room
in my double bed
chew a cavern in the chair
bark at things that are not there
but I’d like to make it very clear –
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you
even though I’m only worth a poo
I really, really do love you 🙂
(Just to make things clear, I’m talking about a dog, not my man!)
© Kait King, 2015
The first time
The first time
it wasn’t that much fun
before I got my panties off
he was already done…
© Kait King, 2015
Among the dead
So the understanding being
that I don’t have to explain myself
that the sky is blue
and life is just because
Now the problem being
that I don’t understand what it is
when you say what you do
when you can’t do it
But the over-lying factor
is the way in which we move
among the dead, the living
dance alone
And I ask myself the question
which life do I fit best in
while you smoke that cigarette
with a flare
© Kait King, 2015
I buried you, I hope you don’t mind
What do you mean?
You don’t get it?
I’ve talked the hind leg
off a donkey
telling you why it is
what it is
and no
I don’t regret it
How can you say that?
How would you know?
I get pissed that I’m not good enough
I won’t put my assets on show
I watch you watching yourself
under the radar
so low
Hiding who you really are
and now I wish I didn’t know
When did you do that?
Is it like, someone I know?
There is no name, no face
No one to show
And I need a body to bury
So I can let you go
© Kait King, 2015
Equal but Different – Let’s Celebrate!
I believe we are stumbling blindly into an inferno of uncontrolled hedonistic violence and sex. There is no argument that sex and violence are two of the most basic instincts in a human, particularly a male as he is the protector and the pro-creator; or that these two basic reptilian responses have been a part of human nature since the beginning of time.
What I find concerning is the lack of the repulsion response to violence or unnatural/violent sex. Research indicates that women, or young girls, are not only joining gangs and becoming more violent in their everyday life, but also are committing suicide in more violent ways. If we look back in time, women are the carers, the nurturers, the collectors and gatherers. Women were seen as mysterious as they bled and didn’t die and could give birth to another human being. An amazing, necessary and painful responsibility, but one that sets us apart as women and the carers of the next generation. I think we have lost track of that view. Is it because of Women’s Liberation? I don’t think it is because of that, but perhaps a catalyst after so many years of denial and oppression for women that they just went crazy and like most things they snowball into something unmanageable or inexplicable. Women needed to create their own freedom, this was a necessary journey but now we need another hero to pull us back to reality, balance and a normality.
So back to the violence factor. Women used to gas themselves or take pills to commit suicide. Men were the ones who used guns and ropes to do the same. Back in the 1970’s more and more suicides committed by women were found to be with razors, they would slit their wrists. Then they started shooting themselves and hanging too. Women were deemed to see suicide as a way of going to sleep and to look as “peaceful” as possible. They didn’t want their faces blown apart or a mess everywhere – that typical female response seems to be fading as we move forward, women seem to want to be seen as violent, angry, retaliatory and don’t fuck with me individuals. As tough as a man, as strong as, capable as etc. And there is no reason we can’t be. We are all on different levels of ability – what we shouldn’t be doing is denying that ability. We should celebrate our individuality, our gender responsibilities, our strong points – no matter what. But it doesn’t mean we aren’t equal in the ability to be human – we just have different EQUAL roles in the responsibility of the Universe, our lives, our people, children, plants and animals – all Earthlings have a reason to be here. All Earthlings have a role in the world, some of us know this role and others of us struggle to find our purpose. But what our purpose is not, is to degrade, belittle or detract others from their journey.
I’ve watched Jack Ass and I wonder what influence that may have had on today’s young kids. When we were growing up, if we saw someone (young or old) fall over or hurt themselves or if they failed at something like a driver’s licence or baking a cake – we didn’t laugh and point at them and shout “Loser”. We sat down with them, put an arm around their shoulders and told them that they would be all right and be able to do this again. We would help them, pick them up, dust them off and push them forward again, not nail spikes of spite into their very soul to keep them pinned to the lowest low.
So I wonder what has happened to us all. I look rather sadly around me when I see more and more women with guns standing next to a Giraffe, Elephant or Lion they “hunted” with an AK47 and I’m ashamed. Children and babies burnt, tortured,starved, ignored and suffering, our elderly abused and forgotten to rot in unacceptable conditions, animals tortured and used for sick individual’s pleasure. But most disturbing of all is that it is a woman at the end of those appalling acts, more and more.
So I beg of us all as women to take back what is ours, our mystery, our caring, our nurturing and saving of the world. We are women, our power lies in our ability to calm, talk, bring peace, negotiate and love. Please help me bring our job-description back into the light, it’s who we are, it’s what we were made to do – I don’t want to fall into the hole of what everyone else is doing or hardening up for – if we do this we will crack and fall into a squidzillion pieces never to be a whole again. Am I living in hope of a Utopia? Please say it isn’t so….
© Kait King, 2015
You should be an actress!
I didn’t want to
lay back
in the director’s
chair
I didn’t want to
take off my clothes
to help me get “up there”
I didn’t want to be
just bouncy breasts
on TV
I didn’t want my body
out there
for all to see
So I didn’t take
the money
I didn’t get
the job
not for any other reason
than I wouldn’t
suck his knob
© Kait King, 2015