a poem

Like everyone, I was playing indoor cricket and this poem came to me.



If i could build a time machine, i'd go back and tell jesus not to bother.

If I could make a quantum physics remote control, i wouldn't put any batteries in.

If I could design my own planet, i'd make sure all trees there were made of cheese.

If i could create monkeys with lasers in their head, i'd train them to kill popstars.

If i could invent a device that could change the future and make pancakes, I'd make pancakes.

If I could take down all governments with a marble, I'd use a catseye.

If i could author a social netowrking site that would unite the world, i'd call it ilovenazis.com.

If i could physically reach my penis with my mouth, i'd be tempted but my gag reflex would ruin it.

If i could sing any song in the world to a martian, it would be Roxanne, in Eddie Murphy style.

Death in triplicate

Once you know you are going to do it, it’s all about picking the place. I looked around, thought about it as a statememt and eventually it was Melbourne’s bridge to the west that got the nod. It was built on death, and a great place to end your life.

It was not easy to get into, which told me it was not an entirely original though. But eventually I find myself at the edge of the bridge, the water gushing far below. I fumble around with my Ipod, it’s a bit windy, and it’s hard to see the screen, I suppose apple didn’t factor in a man standing on the edge of a bridge about to jump into their design needs.

I must admit I hadn’t really decided on a song before hand, and it’s so windy on the bridge it I almost accidentally die, which would be a disaster. I have trouble selecting the song, initially I pick Song 2 by Blur, but it doesn’t seem grand enough, so I go with I am a bird now by antony & the johnsons.

Then it starts to play and the first line puts me off, I don’t want to be a beautiful girl. So I put it on random and let the Ipod Gods decide. They choose Shake hands with beef by Primus. I am ready to jump now, I take one last big breath of air, smile, and then I let go, but a hand grabs me. I turn to a large angry back man who is yelling something, but I can’t hear him over the kicking bass line and the wind.

He drags me back onto the walk way. Almost impaling me on several metal spikes, which all could have ended me. He puts me down and snatches the ear plugs out of my ears.

You cannot be do that.
Sorry.
You mustED fill in forms.
Forms?
Management will come down on me if you not do. Come now.

He has a uniform, and a strong grip, so I follow him, he does not speak on the way back, he looks very angry, and occasionally shakes his head. He takes me into an office.

Sit. You now need to fillED up the forms.
What forms?
Suicide forms, you wish to kill yourself no.

I nod, noticing that every word with an e and d on the end he sounds out as ed, like a preacher saying Blessed. Ofcourse he gives it his own spin by adding it to other words as well.

Then you must fillED in the forms, very important, paperwork mustED be compete.
Ok.

He passes me the forms.

Terms of Agreement
Bridge Departures by Pedestrians.

Please Use Block Letters and Ensure all answers are Truthful at the time of signing.

1. Name & Age

Rupert Fyfe 34

2. Address

518c Murphy Grove, Preston

3. Reason for suicide

I stare at that question for a while, not sure what to write, I mean I know why I am doing it, but writing it down is something I never even contemplated. Just for a second I consider putting down just the name of my Ex, but that seems a bit mean.

It’s ok, you put down just depressED if you want.
Oh
Just formalised, does not need to be exactED.

Depressed.

4. Next of kin

I think of who I want to know about this first, I settle on my Aunty Catherine, she will tell my sister in the appropriate way, I don’t want the police telling her. My sister will take it hard, but Aunty Catherine will make some scones and make her feel better. Everything feels better with scones. Oh shit, my dad, Aunty Catherine doesn’t even talk to him. This is hard.

William Charles Fyfe 03969 7589

5. Health

Excuse me, why do I have to fill that in?
If your survivED.
Oh.

No allergies, general fitness is moderate, colour blind.

6. Last words

Oh fuck. What am I going to write here. I have never been really good at writing. Suicide, I need something about suicide, and family, telling them its ok, I am better off, and stuff. Oh i got it.

To my family and loved ones I say this, don’t not mourn my loss, celebrate our times together, and move on with your lives. I am happier making this decision than you could ever know.

As for my departure, they say Suicide is Painless, so when we meet on the other side, I’ll buy you a beer and tell you all about it.

Love Rupe.

Maybe clarity does come to those who know when their end is, but they better fucken mourn me.

7. Will

I give everything to my sister Jackie, except my Lego Darth Vader, that goes to my mate Michael, and my CD’s to my cousin Cassie.

I do have my doubts to whether this is a legal and binding Will, but i probably should have thought about this.

8. Proof of Identity

Sorry but I don’t have any ID on me.
Then you cannot jump.
Why not?
After you jumpED, I must tell police who you are, how do I know who you are.
Well I do not have any ID with me, so you will have to take my word for it.
NO, will not, cannot breakED the rules for anyone.
Please, I would really like to do it today.
NO, rules must be obeyED.
Can you not just waive the rules for one day, this is not an easy thing, it’s a long trip out here, and I am here now and would like to just finish it.
Rules cannot be breakED.

There was no arguing with him, he had the eyes of an ex soldier and the pen of a tightly anused administracrat. I thought of other ways, calling people and asking them to explain, but it was all too much, one more day wasn’t going to kill me. Just meant I had to cook my favourite meal again, and watch Predator one more time, both were doable.

I signed the bottom of the form, and got up to leave.

What time tomorrow you come?
2ish.
Need exactED time.
2.
OK, and you must usED the other side of bridge.
Why?
Is better that way.
OK.
Tomorrow I see you at 2 here in office Mr Fyfe, have a good day.
Yes you too.

Our hero

Our hero sat in the corner of the room. He always sat in the corner of the room. He wanted to see all the faces of his co-workers. There were 50 people sitting in front of him. All of them were doing the job he was supposed to do. He was not interested.

Working was something he almost did. His interests were the people in front of him. They all had lives, families, pets and mortgages. But for the 8 hours they spent on the phone each day, they were his lab rats. He followed their lives like a crippled teen

Rhonda a middle aged divorced woman with a penchant for Bill Cosby sweaters is trying to explain to a retired judge the rules of his contract. She can’t win the conversation, he won’t win the battle. She smiles the smile of an eternal optimist that is always one bad event from suicide. Later she will go home to her clean, but very empty flat and she will cry. Our hero will ask her questions in her break that will push her to the edge.

Brock is a 22yo player, but he usually plays with him self, due to the high standards he sets. He is reading the paper, he knows if he gets caught he will be reprimanded, but he can’t talk to another idiot on the phone. When he gets home he will masturbate in front of his computer, he will be looking at women pissing in public, it will be the happiest moment of his day. Our hero will chat with him about his latest conquests, all the while inferring that he is making up every last bit of them.

Stephanie is a very pretty lady, she is 32 and has been married twice and engaged once. Her breasts are rarely not on show, and every man, married or not, is a potential partner. She has a customer who refuses to let her finish her sentence. That night she will drink a glass of red while watching a DVD of matchbox twenty and SMSing guys hoping they will come over. Eventually one will. Our hero will be one of those messaged, he will strong her along for a while, but he has no intention of going over.

Gordon is dead. No one has told him, but he is. He has three kids and a mortgage, but they aren’t what killed him. Gordon’s wife is a whore, and spends every cent he gets before he gets it. He has a woman on the phone who is overly flirty. It is the highlight of the day, and Our Hero will egg him on to call her on more non professional way.

Brodie is gay, everyone knows it, except him. His job was calling people to inform them that they had been undercharged and would need to pay more. After work he would have tea at a romantic restaurant with his equally clueless girlfriend. After dinner they will take a walk and then have extremely passion free sex. They will tell each other how great it was. Both of them will fake Orgasms. Our hero will make so many gay jokes around him, he will wonder more about Our hero’s sexuality than his own.

Simon was virtually mentally retarded. This had never been diagnosed, however it was plain for every one to see. His caller was getting frustrated, as Simon, for the fifth time that day, didn’t understand anything the caller had to say. At the nightclub that night he would take an ecstasy pill, that’s what he’ll tell people anyway. He often pretends to be stoned, ripped, high or whatever the kids are calling in, so he can take “equally” trashed girls home. Not for the first time he will be home alone. Our hero will steer clear of him, sometimes its too easy.

Our hero sat there feeling good abut himself.

Our hero felt more important than anyone else in the room.

Our hero had a plan.

Our hero was an ass.