1. Departure 1958

The air pricks our faces
at minus twenty
we glow with fever
filling out forms
wiping tears away

We are leaving for good
our cradle land
our Poland

2. Suitcases

I have packed
favourite books
photos of Bardot and Lollobrigida
locks of girlfriends’ hair

Mum and Dad have packed
cabaret nights
café rendezvous
daring political jokes
volumes of poetry

but slammed the case shut on
midnight door knocks
opened mail with words blacked out

3. Goodbye

Flickering light
windy platform
our friends
huddle like penguins
braced against the storm

Through misted breaths
they chorus

Long live the Kovalskis!!
May we live to see you again!

4. Journey

The train
rushes us off
into a void

Wrenched from
fun-loving friends
red rattling trams
barrels of herring
dilled cucumbers
sausages hung from balconies in snow
Chopin’s mazurkas drifting from next door
banners proclaiming Workers’ Paradise

I’m crying, I don’t want to leave

Dad : You’ll come back when you’re older.

That’s no consolation

Me : I’ll be someone else then!

5. Midnight

Border guards
thump carriage walls
Alsatians sniff for people
clutching the train’s underbelly

I wonder
why we have brought the barrel of butter
standing broad-hipped in the passageway

And why are
gold brooches pinned
to my underwear
and my brother’s nappies

A knock at our door.

From the top bunk
I see Dad
hand over his passport
a month’s salary inside

The guard
slides the notes
into his breast pocket
and salutes

Try to stay awake
but miss the Iron Curtain

As we reach Austria
Mum and Dad hug
and down a shot of vodka
We’ve made it!

I weep,
I’ve lost
everything

6. Vienna

At the Hotel Edelweiss
Mum and Dad
sleeves rolled up
squelch their way
through the butter in the barrel

One by one
greasy glittering gems
emerge from hiding

Dad: Portable Investment,
to start us off in Australia

7. Opulence

Shop window
displays silver stiletto shoes
diamante straps circling ankles

On a park bench
a mother peels a luminous orange
for her child

So rare in Poland
such luxury
forbidden at my school

8. Italy

Next stop, Bologna
Arcades drape shadows
on hot roads

Roofs clumped together
face inward
shielding the courtyard inside

The Italians
stylishly dressed
quick to laugh
offer fruit
and make faces at my baby brother

Want to stay
in this opulent land
but Dad says: No! Safety from Moscow
                         lies further ahead

9. Boat Trip

One month on an endless ocean

Afloat between
continents
time-zones
exchange rates

Dining tables
fixed to the floor
when the boat rolls
the chairs
with occupants
– forks poised to spear –
slide away
to the other side of the room

We feel so important
but caught between
heave and lull
we’re flotsam
disposable
dispensable
disgraced

10. Australia

Station Pier
dark deserted

Friends meet us
drive us home
for steak chips and tinned peas

Streamlined kitchen bench-tops
plush couches
wall-to-wall carpets

A pampered Holden
in its kennel
and at the back
a field of grass

Everyone’s dream
they say
a block of land
in the suburbs

11. Melbourne

Mum asks: Are we on a stage-set?
Where are the people?
are we the only ones here?

Blinding light
strafes the asphalt
shade and shadow
trap the folks
indoors

Everything shielded:
low roofs on houses
verandas over shop windows
men’s eyes hidden
under hat brims

12. Beginning

The Aussies are friendly
but not interested in us
their reasoning is simple

If your land was so great
you wouldn’t be here

Can’t argue with that

Forget your past
you must blend in

Dad wears knee-high socks
and knee-length shorts

He trudges with his suitcase
bulging with samples:
tablecloths placemats tea towels
up and down Flinders Lane
to the city wholesalers

He changes our name to Collins
gives Mum lessons
on how to pronounce it

13. School

In Year 7
I drop my key
by the lockers

Please remove your foot
I say in my best English

Make me!

How can I make her?
She is made already!

A language whiteout

I gently push her foot

The next thing there are
clumps of hair
splotches of blood
and this feeling
of going for it
at an
accelerating
exhilarating
speed

Punch! Pinch! Pull!
Scrape! Scratch! Spit!

The headmistress pins me against the wall
We don’t want your sort here!

14. St Kilda

Behind the Moorish towers
of the South Pacific nightclub
a three-sided pier fences in the beach

Dad shakes hands with
Franek Marek Yanek
starting a panel discussion
on business and politics

Mum kisses Lola Bella Fela and Hela
Out comes the coconut butter
the fresh leaves to cover nose and eyes
the reflective collar
for that Hawaiian tan

Men stiff with chests puffed out
swoop on women needing a light

Women squeezed into swimsuits
parade like seals along the pier
avoid men’s eyes
diving into their cleavages

Only Fellini is missing

15. Ackland Street

On Sundays
our friends from the rag-trade
meet in Café Scheherazade

Once again they are
doctors lawyers engineers
but now with calloused hands

In this aromatic cocoon
they joke boast advice
then take comfort in

Pickled herring sauerkraut
schnitzel horseradish
Black Forest Poppyseed Kugelhopf
and real espresso!

16. Nightclub

At night those who can
troop off to Elwood’s
Moulin Rouge

Alex Stern tailor – bongos
Leo Rosner saved by Schindler – accordion
Kuba Berkovski ex-dentist – piano
Lilka ‘La Lollo’ – croons Hernando’s Hideaway

Couples shuffle tango
cheek to cheek
hoping to ignite desire

By midnight
drunk and sweaty
they stagger out
praying they’ll pull through
another sixty-hour week

– Eva Collins