The Final Show 



    You realise far 
    too late once
    they have become
    framed photos, 
    names spoken
    out loud, bringing 
    everyone to tears,
    that the spectacle 
    was just for you.

    My father Ielu 
    clearing his throat 
    louder than usual
    like thunder 
    announcing rain. 

    His younger brother 
    the overachiever
    opening and closing 
    draws. Telling us -
    it’s here somewhere.

    Waving the large knife
    with the matt black 
    handle, high above his 
    head. See, I told you
    I told you! 
    Uncle Siaki is filleting 
    the river salmon laid
    out across the kitchen
    bench, laughing to himself.
    Take some home, I’ll 
    freeze this. Dad shaking
    his head at all the fuss.

    My luggage already full 
    the outline of the portable 
    ‘foot tub’ easily visible, 
    retrieved from the top
    shelf of his garage, in 
    this new house, not second
    hand but brand new.
    He forced the teeth of 
    the zipper together 
    just sit on it pointing 
    at my suitcase - use 
    all your weight.

    Filling out arrival forms
    on the plane back to 
    Auckland, checking ‘yes’ 
    for fresh food, ‘yes’ for 
    gifts. How could I refuse 
    his final offering, the
    black t-shirt with
    large white letters
    across the front 
    BITCH PLEASE!

    A gift for the
    very last day
    his entire body
    shaking with laughter 
    eyes so full of life
    filled with love
    convincing me
    the worst would
    never happen.




Kim Meredith (Fuipu’a and Vaito'omuli Palauli) is a gallerist, writer and multimedia artist living in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland.