My First Coat that wasn't a Hand-me-down

My first coat that wasn’t a hand-me-down used to hang in disgrace in an old cupboard which faced the sea. Not that the coat itself was responsible. Like a coat can carry that honour. No. The coat had come to be a symbol of everything that had brought me to this point…this point of complete dispair. So I had relegated it, shut the door, locked it away, let the spackle harden. Of course it then consequently ceased to exist…ceased to remind me of that bitter pill when the end came to brush over me…before it’s time. But coveralls are only ever dealing with surfaces, like paint which eventually fades, cracks, bleeds away. Sometimes its whats underneath the roller, what was always there…clean, freash and new. So one day I opened the cupboard and threw that first coat that wasn’t a hand-me down over the cliff and watched it float out to sea. The next day, extraordinarily he called…and asked if I still had that coat…

My First Coat that wasn't a Hand-me-down

Robert Knapman

Adelaide, Australia

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Artist's Description

Thanks Gretchen that was fun

Artwork Comments

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