Poem 300

This is also from White Cloud … the previous poem (Brendan) led into this one which was interleaved with Tim Finn’s beautiful song Going Too Fast all about the restlessness and recklessness of youth – remember our children by the white crosses on the side of the road … the poem worked as a counterpoint during the song (ie. was written to support not stand alone) and was spoken by two voices male and female (the italics represent the woman’s voice) or if you prefer the driver (collider) and the sufferer (collided with) … I wanted a sense of the alienation and bravado, the self-centredness denial and distancing, pervasive sadness and waste …

( I like the implied double meaning of steers (stares), the ambiguity of speed and smoke in a bottle both of which can be taken as referring to methamphetamine or just to the fleeting thrill of adrenaline and alcohol, the fatigue and exhaustion of the same unjust story of others crashing into our lives over and over … as Tim’s song has it nothing’s going to stop them from going too fast … )

Going Too Fast

         no one knows me
         no one cares
         no one watches
         no one steers


					   fuck I was blocked
					   fuck I was dead
					   a highway of speed
					   hammered through my head


         you didn’t say you were sorry
         you had nothing to say
         I caught your eye in the courtroom
         you looked away


					   no one knows me
					   no one cares
					   no one watches
					   no one steers


         who cares who suffers?
         who suffers who cares
         feel the wind in your face
         the glass in my hair


					   like smoke in a bottle
					   that couldn’t last
					   smoke in a bottle
					   I’m gone too fast


         like smoke in a bottle
         that couldn’t last
         smoke in a bottle
         they're gone too fast