The Plainsman from Niscitam by Blake Scott

In the Goroke Golf club bar, the Plainsman set our
conversation to the pace of a sinking stone
Pending fatherhood
My love for your mother
The provision of a home
He spoke knowingly of my perceived failings and guilt
amidst the maelstrom of adulthood
In response, I spoke feebly
I pondered on the correct pronunciation of his name
I could not close my fist
and my teeth fell from my face, onto the bar

I told him of my travels to the sunset strip, and the
aching that the dry lake Menindie had left in my stomach
That no matter how far I go, I’m never far enough away
and nothing is how I imagined
Even him
The Plainsman

He startled me with the suggestion of a strange collaboration
A doctrine or manifesto on the history and meanings of
Russian boys names
I imagined you, as me, and I felt safe
You
Ever knowing
Ever loving
Ever my son
And I, forever indebted to your love

Heading out toward the Mundi Mundi
Through a parade of wild goats surely
studying to twist my chariot
A strange fascination with this long old land
This big old pile of bones
Did I dream your beating heart?
Did I dream to life your breath upon my face?
And all the years to here?

I’m never going to let you down...

I’d seen an old postcard of the Sunset Strip
The sun pressed down upon the chest of lake Menindie
I drove out to the centre where the wet should be
And drank beer upon its bones
Did I dream the earth to dust?
Did I dream its final breath upon my face?
Did I dream the years to here?

I’m never going to let you down…

Amidst the maelstrom
As man
As lamb
The Plainsman was gone
It was then that you appeared, older than I
Assured and assuring
Refined
And brave
You spoke of a vulture
And the fastidious cleanliness in which she kept her nest
The warmth of her wings
How you gorged on the carrion that you were to enjoy all
to yourself, though always longed for a brother or sister

And now the Plainsman again
Amidst the maelstrom
Ever knowing
Ever loving
Ever my son
And I, forever indebted
For your love...

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