Tuesday Poem - Blokes by Christopher Kelen

Blokes

Blokes are always coming over.

Arrive in droves or in their ones.

Wear thongs in summer, boots

for weather. Won't be tied, won't

be predicted. No one says mind

my clean floor love.

Arriving in their utes and vans

they're always round here, day and

night, courting our Penelope.

Know what's next, what's what, when

why. Blokes know what to do and

what you need and even if you

can't decide. Blokes'll sort your

trouble out. If it aint broke it's

easy fixed. Take care but not

responsible. They're always late

and rude and wet. Blokes like to

be outside the best. They dare

the ozone at their backs. Sleep with

someone else. They say things you

wouldn't. Feel less, do more. You've

got to love them though. Hide in their

frothy beards to weep. You feel for

them. The camera shies. Cuddle

them and know they're bad. Take

them all for granted.

Don't like to be told. Won't take

hints. They slink away to shed when

dark. Grow blacker under moody trees,

shed their lacks among the fauna.

They won't be caught. They get away.

Get down to pub and dab and dab.

Until they're almost in the clink.

They tell their temporary comrades.

Blokes tell the truth and when they don't

they've got the story all worked out.

Blokes all know the pecking order,

how to fit, not rock the boat. They

make a play for the affections. Trust

the passing moment, loathe permanence

of plans. Won't stand still in all that distance

unless it's advertising beer. They have

terrific urgency. Already yes they've climbed

your tree, know what you've lost before it's gone.

What's down that pipe, what ails your pet.

Blokes give each other pointers. They

stand off when strain requires. Keep their

level on the job, the issue well in hand. And

prime themselves with jests, digress.

Blokes are slaves of circumstance. It's

not their fault, the way they are. Was

done to them as blokelings. They can't help

being rough with stuff. Have to give it all

a test. See if it's well made or not.

Blokes are mates or so they say.

Won't let a bastard down. The blokiest

are your best mates. Your mates are blokes

if you're a bloke. Women can be mates

or ladies. Can't be blokes. Mate with them

to make new playmates. Blokes or no. If

you're a bloke you mustn't mate with other

blokes. It doesn't work. A dreadful thing.

Unblokemanlike. Besides - how could

you tell your mates?

Some things are better left unsaid.

And out of earshot of the nagging

blokes won't need your looking after.

Dinners tabled, washing done.

Blokes go lean in filth and glue

their rotting jeans together.

Blokes know it's bad luck to speak

when gesturing would do the trick.

As insects lead the faster life

they've lost a leg before you've

finished telling them precautions.

Enemies of labour saving, scoff

at ingenuity. They do a thing

the hardest way. Heaviest, most

arduous, most danger to their backs,

their hearts. They use their tools

with no protection. Clog noses

and their ears fall off. Eyes are

full of filings. It shows what

blokey blokes they are. Drown

in beer to build a gut. They suffer

beef to have the dripping. Sneak

from the ward at last for fags and

curse their curtailed freedom.

That's with their last breath.

Bloody this and bloody that is what

your bloke ghost says at last. And

when the dirt's dug and well sifted

where are those blokey souls all fled?

They've gone to blokeland. Hellish

spot. Celestial shed. And dim or bright

to their deservings.

There's always more after that.

There never was a drought of blokes

- not since the war. Blokelings grow

to blokehood's full bloom. Blokes

abound, they pull their weight. Just

ring for blokes, they will appear.

Show some leg, offer beer. When

all else fails you needn't fear.

Just stir him up.

Your bloke is here.



'Blokes' was the winner of Westerly's 2007 Patricia Hackett Prize.  

Christopher (Kit) Kelen is a well known Australian poet, scholar and visual artist, sometime 
poet-in-his-own-residence at Markwell via Bulahdelah, and a Professor at the University of 
Macau, where he has taught Literature and Creative Writing for the last thirteen years. 
The most recent of Kelen's dozen English language poetry books are China Years – New and 
Selected Poems and a pocket kit. His next volume Scavengers Season is being published by 
Puncher and Wattman in 2014.