Brenda Saunders is a Sydney writer and artist of Aboriginal and British descent. She has had work published on the web and in literary journals in Australia and overseas. Her poetry readings have been broadcast on Awaye and Poetica ABCRN. Brenda won the Banjo Patterson Poetry Prize in 2010 and was recently short-listed for the David Unaipon Prize in the 2011 Queensland Premier’s Literary Awards.
I’m a One-off. A Pin-up at the high end of haute. My elan gathers the adventuous, adjusts the unpredictable: that je ne sais quoi! I’m quality svelte, hot off the press. Shaped and swathed, I thread my way with seamless artistry, purring down the catwalk of history. Of course I’m biased! If cut on the cross, I’m bound to unravel. At times I’m taken down a size, let down, stitched up. Still I hold it all together. When pinched and tucked I suffer pins and needles. End up a caste-off on the cutting room floor. Destined for the rack, I’d rather be hung with Armani (He says in five languages how froufrou is my frisson, how chic my couture) than pegged as synthetic Esprit. It’s not that I’ve got tickets on myself, but Label is everything. I could be sized up for Ready to Wear. Phased out in Ping Pong After 8. Still, better a Country Road in beige, than one-size-fits-all in the bargain basement.
I find them here at the door, scraping like the cat wanting to get out at night: coming in wild-eyed with a new smell. I can usually brush them aside with those cobwebs in the hall. Leave them under the dusty mat. At the hairdressers regret is everywhere. Before the mirror I sit captive to loss. And they creep up unannounced at someone’s funeral: hit you front on so you’re out of breath. But what can you do? Peggy Lee drowned them in ‘Coffee and cigarettes‛ but that never does it for me. Indecision is a maze leading nowhere; second thoughts are a dead end. Do nothing and regret takes hold. Who needs yesterday’s burden to slow you down? Look ahead. After all the grass is always greener… so they say. Possibilities are said to be limitless.
Patience is said to be a virtue. But is it always necessary or beneficial? I have neighbours who must have endless patience. They wait until I come home to play their heavy metal collection. In this case impatience can be a positive for change. Just look at queues. People will get in line for anything. In the city they block streets, hold up pedestrians, waiting for a Ready-Teller: sit in cars for hours as the traffic crawls along. (Now who’s ‘moving in the fast lane?) In the 21st century we live in the moment. The ‘imp’ of impatience is like a Fury on speed. Still, if I’m out of range I know there’s no need to react. The touch of a key will send my on-line thoughts flying around the world.