mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Sport 37: Winter 2009

On the door at Bluenote

page 102

On the door at Bluenote

get out here now
you fuckin whore
before I smack you
in the face and shatter
your fuckin jaw
and make
an example out of you

baby settle
down did you hear that
I'm so embarrassed
I'm so sorry
what are you selling
how much for the CD
shit I don't have any
money on me
sorry baby
I'm so sorry
and embarrassed
you had to see that

She's standing behind me with her hands
on my shoulders. I've never been punched

in the face by a man. Something would break.
He has large arms. If I had to reach up and stop
blood, if the bouncer pulled him off, I'd be famous.

page 103

His girlfriend still holds my shoulders. She's sober
and doesn't sound scared. It's not your fault,
I tell her. She looks at me with pity.

Natasha Hay punched me because I fell into her
at a party. There was more to it than that, I think.
She said something like, fuckin' bitch I'm gonna

get you, then got me in the eye. I wish I hadn't
cried. It wasn't the pain that made me; it was the
hatred, which I hadn't earned since primary school.

Four years later, when I was walking down Havelock Road,
a woman leaned out of a passing Mazda and shouted
Ha ha, Amy Brown, you bitch—I punched you and you cried.