Karma

The Old MG

I remember the Old MG we had at work, reflecting on your past; We are getting older now Old mate; half of a century.

I liked the analogue ways, fix it over the phone.

I know the old beast was a little untidy, a little like Geoffo's SS if you consider authenticity.

But it gave our clients a great service, just ring up and if we can't fix it over the phone then bring the old MG. K29's Dunlop's an all

Technically, it was fantastic but like luxury wise? the Old car sucked and for the office you thought it was hopeless....

But for the blokes, the MG was good. Gosh we did fifteen million with ol' MG

No! ..........you said "It's got to go,"

What I could never understand Poet is why you had to employ the new vehicle and let the old MG's tires deflate.

You'd pump up the tyres and the stress set in as it was confined to an Office for longer than was needed,

The service costs when up when the MG was spun faster but you had the office running that one second faster didn't you?

Out with the blokes and service over a mobile was good for the MG.

I drew up the plans for that Old MG's extension and it did a great job opening up more space where it resided.

I enjoyed talking about the V8 supercars and the MG would take me there, in style and trouble free,

but it always broke down when you thrashed it.

You knew Poet that the MG had commitments and family, but you didn't care, it had to go, and the way you did it, nasty.

I always listened to you wane; about the performance, it was "I Éclair", who lifted your spirit, but you only looked towards pity.

When you couldn't drive to the head anymore, and I was doing everything, You couldn't face it; do you remember?

You wanted to do those stupid small jobs that I didn't; and I was angry, but then you said I was like a Brother,

And I guess a lot of my friends are pseudo brothers for I loved any friendly family situation,

Isn't it strange how I understood that word and I only drove the MG towards client performance,

I guess you have something to prove. To find the missing peace, or is a Nugget the payout .

Our story "Whine" - a drama novel by A. Poet - "a novel on Discipline for emotional Children"

Maybe you should be reading "A course in miracles" - A.F. Skutch - Migratory patterns of 'Partners'

"My Fathers best friend is you in me reverse; in horror scope, but you wouldn't understand my old fella, as he respects his mate like a brother.

We supported many a family and by god didn't we have fun; Tanswell's pub at Beechworth and then those awesome Mountains.

You looked so happy then and I revered those moments,

The sad part is whilst you were scheming you missed out on a whole lot of fun.

I hope your Son's don't have to feel the conditional love you preach.

Although I guess they have no expectations of you as a Father.

I knew that you could give to others .....when 'you' showed your humour

When you made us laugh, when you hung out like all of us did,

It's just this bloody hypocrisy of you also conditioning my acceptance with I,

That I was wrong of moral, that I caused everything, that I talked you into this and that.., thrown to the gutter. penniless.

Actually sitting down and gloating at my kitchen table with the Whine

Writing a plan out that would leave the partner who actually cared for you

penniless and quickly heading towards bankruptcy. How do you sleep.

Cutting out letters from a newspaper, the 'How we' curse.

Fiddled the value-add that was added to the company and give away all happiness and so its gone, Happy?

Using the same legal counsel?

Pay less and repair the morals, but what was your true motive as you always had expectation?

That you could turn your back on a man you called Brother, the same 'x' who hugged you in Hospital.

Walk in the MG's garage again Poet an look around at the memories we have,

The train set you stole meticulously from Geoffo. The plastic Ships I put together for you Poet.

You dumped so many good men and what for ? To be in control of why it is all going wrong,

Cover your trail for a tax audit cover up your lies, gosh wasn't there two hundred grand of great art

Somewhere and couldn't she see TT's worth being insulted, valuing him at ten thousand.

Plead to the Valuers and to my Mother Waivs, That he hasn't provided for his girls! Get a job for Christ sake.

I heard that one from my Daughters, my Mother and from the Whine. Sounds rehearsed.

Each time that you were hugged, remember who boosted of your spirits, and who was complaining.

I knew you were controlled by the S.S.

You didn't understand that Force was the meaning of your words Poet and that was aimed at the heart of that old MG.

I knew that you had changed your tune from your Greek interview

You said you were in for the long run and that's what partners are for....

You sat here in this room and proclaimed to her that you had never trusted me, that is sad

But you only ever did concern yourself with pie man's missus tits, Mr. Civil; don't you remember,

The heads up is you and me have destroyed what good we had and now you have destroyed my family.

I always say, Conditional acceptance is,

when I'm down I expect

and when they muck up I'll get rid of them

Are those your thoughts POET "Are you so bloody righteous or just buried in lies about a good man"

The mind numbing fantasy that reveals your true character of desire and apathy

and for what Poet

"to buy the business that you so badly wanted to be away from three times?"

Well, all these years later I'm finding out all sorts of things about your financially escapades.

Don't worry it will be painless for me...