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Gaffers Last Gig
frank2

standing on a tent platform 30ft in the air at minus 27 celsius at midnight and thinking that I've had enough,
 1

all these years and all the shows and what was I doing here other than suffering a wage?
 2


I was cold and bored and I didn't care about production values,
 3
or if the show went to air,
 4
or if anyone even knew who I was. 
 5

I thought of a technician I'd known who years earlier had died of a massive heart attack only steps away from where I was working now,

 6
I don't want to die like that, I thought, carrying cable on my shoulder,
 7
or even just standing here in the back of this tent like a weirdo on a street corner waiting for this stupid show to end,

 8
please, don't let this happen to me,
 9

let this be the last of a former life.


 10
 
 
you came into my mind then,

 11
what you'd said not so long ago,
 12


bare as stripped wire,
 13

black as a short circuit,
 14

something that once was electric,
 15

now just melted junk lying on a bench.
 16
 
 


all these dead endings,

 17
all these places where we are diminished,

 18
resigned to a collapse of expectations,
 19

the disappointment of the self,

 20
 
 
you said I had expected too much of you,
 21

in the end you made that point succinctly,
 22

you were right and I was wrong,

 23
you were someone else.
 24
 
 


I think, now,
 25

I am too.
 26

12 Feb 18


(define the words in this poem)
(2 more poems by this author)



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