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.