The Noise That the House Made
1996; Springer International Publishing; Volume: 22; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
ISSN
0311-4198
Autores Tópico(s)Themes in Literature Analysis
ResumoThe Noise That the House Made the noise the bedroom made was her numb determination/ as she hacksawed their marital bed in two/ she said: he can't hurt my feelings because i haven't got any/ so that each stale half rested quietly & separately/ growing cobwebs like wrinkles/ the noise was a four-year- old girl afraid of the dark/ the long whine from the blankets all night: mum i wanna drink of water/ until even after she had stopped calling out/ the hallway walls sighed: oohhh we wanna drink of water/ as though they were thirsty/ despite the financial tears they were built on/ the noise my brother made as he shuffled his cot towards the door was hyperactive/ his screwed up red face & fist curled tightly around the bottle of cow's milk/ lactose storms splashing the blue walls of tantrums/ the noise is my father pissed/ falling into the swimming pool/ filled with green algae & mosquito larva/ gulping down water beneath the warped clothesline/ & jumping up so my mother would notice him/ her sharp face covered in mock icing from the sunbeam/ irritated by him indulging in slime/ after pushing out the cupcakes she scrubbed the kitchen clean/ the noise is a wet plop as a fish leapt to freedom/ slamming eye first into grey speckled lino/ found by my mother a few days later/ dried like prune & covered in dog hair/ the noise that the house made was the murder of childhood/ the cold fist appeared in the silence of the hallway/ from the midst of the blue walls & paint-chipped skirting boards/ children's heads collided & cracked like thunder/ before dissolving into grief & deep carpet tumults/ (once i bumped my forehead on the sharp corner of a cupboard/ so that my mother would rub oily yellow butter into the huge purple lump)/ (then another time i broke the light in the refrigerator door & was beaten by her/ until i jogged like a ragged doll in her skinny white arms/ her tears mingling with mine as my toes tap danced the carpet)/ children hit the floorboards like stones with bruised thighs & upper arms/(my father was a detective who witnessed the corpses of parents/ shocked toddlers sitting beside them/ fried eggs sliding down the walls in trails of grease/ cold omelettes & pools of crimson disappearing into cracks beneath the broken porcelain)/ the noise is black flies glued to the ceilings & footsteps down corridors & overturned refrigerators flooding the kitchen with grocery liquids/ & brooding houses built with bricks of regret on unstable foundations/ with torn 1960s wiredoor flyscreens & broken down trampolines/ & a stray ginger tom who no one has told to move on/ only the goldfish sedated in the bowl & the budgie in the cage were left silently observing/ & the turtle & rabbit were very quiet/ when my father took down the smith & wesson/ he cried in the backyard sandpit/ like a child witnessed by no one/ ribs/ gizzards/ chunks of fat/ & small bones/ this was wobbling in the pick-up truck in traffic/ in front of me/ racecourse road/ this is what goes into lard/ gelatine lactic acid collagen/ keratin lanolin oestrogen progesterone elastin/ do you recognise them? …
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