Tonarana Man, and: The woman who hated washing machines, and: Sea Gull

Abstract

Tonarana Man, and: The woman who hated washing machines, and: Sea Gull Richard O'Toole (bio) Tonarana Man Tonarana man soak in the sea soar with gullsHear music in the bayTonarana man, and a fiddleIn salt water hands Pick at strings pick carrots sweetDancing Naomh OgHe rowed with herThrough America and the Bronx Fingers work fingers of concreteEach digit a carrotGirder and steel that slung from hands like a slow airThat rang through ears The death of his fiddle and the thickness of his hands.Yearning for music and Erins homelandHe cried when he got there his fiddle was deadThe landscape the people the music in his head Flung to water it danced with dolphinsAnd a rolling waveSkinned alive in the northwest wind. On a summer morning she found it on Currlocha strandPlayed it gracefully when the tide left the land.The case was his eyes that opened his heartBow breath of lightStrings of life [End Page 175] Play little girl play for me for Curralocha and Tonarana too And the sands of Brandon Most of all For you. The woman who hated washing machines There once was a beautiful woman who could not keep a washing machineShe wore all the right labelsHer eyes smiled like the skyHer teeth were the foamiest waves on the Atlantic She had a handsome husbandTwo fine childrenA boy and a girl She was the star player on the Brandon Bay basketball teamMen ogled her at every turnShe was a magical cook a good motherBut she could not keep washing machines. In the dead of night she would smash them to oblivion with a sledge hammerBursting drums on spin cycleTearing at the seals with her teethKicking electrical circuits with orthotics inside her boots [End Page 176] Moonlit nights were the wildestShe rolled in the Atlantic spinning inside barrelling waves with a hysterical laughIn the coming days washing machine windows would land at her feetShining on the shoreline Recepticles of light canvassed on seaweed and sandStill livesRecepticles of fruitAll the while her family sleptAnd in the morning the clothes gleamed. Her husband loved her passionately But thought she was a little hard on washing machines. Sea Gull Seagull fly over the oceanYou stretch your wings and squawk in salty airRide on thermals of lightStretch and circleRain or grey sky does not bother you. The sea on a moonlit night rocks your sleepWere you the fishermanThat threw me fishWas I the girl who once sat on a wallShimmering in silver [End Page 177] Or the farmer locked by landWhispering secretGrains of sand Fingers of marrim grass in a summer breezeFloweredWith cotton wisp and skies of blue Our silver fish devoured.Heart pumping breath takinglips that touchOn skin. Plumage in flightOver wide expanseCarry me over islands and sand dune secretsAnd bury me in a sand duneDeep With a love thatwas neverToBe. In salty desert sea. [End Page 178] Richard O'Toole Richard O'Toole has worked as a fisherman and truck driver and in construction. He presently is studying radio broadcasting. He is married with two children. Copyright © 2011 University of Nebraska Press