Egan’s Sketchbook

(Written by Saul Jarvie)


I never understood those things he drew
With his back turned he’d smile at you
I asked him Egan, “Why are you sketching swords?”
and with his back turned, he refused to answer,
but he’d always draw the same sword.

I remember him, a curious looking boy –
a girl’s haircut his look of choice
The son of two wives and seven sisters
a Filipino father who’d killed his Mrs.

He’d always grow up to be something more
His suspicious surname gave nothing at all,
but the name of two wives and seven sisters
and fingers that he’d burn until they blistered.

But he’d always draw the same sword
and he’d sharpen his pencils lengthways
His sketches you couldn’t ignore.

Smiling swords carving unhappy faces.
Smiling swords carving unhappy faces.
Smiling swords carving unhappy faces.
Smiling swords carving.

Filing thoughts starving, shavings and traces.
Filing thoughts starving, shavings and traces.
He’d hide in his drawings and hide in his places
Filing thoughts starving.