Monthly Archives: September 2017

This Road

The cabbage trees, it is said, were planted by Maori to guide them inland from the coast, but here, they are markers on the undulating blacktop, firm against the wind, passing fronds to the earth. They are beside a road beside a paddock beside another. They are anchors, rooted deep, to say to all: We […]

On The Track

The tracks run west past the duckback, its at-attention hyacinths, the tin mill and its rusty flanks and curves past the golfers (shot, sir) until it finds its own rhythm, thrum of steel wheel and nature carving up the countryside: pines and gnarly gums, the plain widening until it tricks the eye. In this heat, […]


When the light dipped we knew the southerly was coming: the dog’s nose spread, the clothes pulled at the line, then the sky went pink and mauve and branches were black switches sweeping an enraged sky filled with leaves of bright yellow, and the half-night boomed with thunder and a great light broke out behind […]

state highway 4

state highway 4 mangawhero river this road lifts you up to the sky drifting apart in sunset cloud then sails you down in armfuls of curves to the stone-cracked river below, the roar of night coming in its waters mangawhero river december 2016

old guard

old guard where are the old guard now? going through backyards cutting down cliffs girlie magazines glossing in torchlight an awesome fight near the classrooms long after home-time the old guard whose faces were like playing the same hand again and again in last card where are the old guard? what was should always have […]


Silence called yet did not stay. I seek its comfort, to close out noise of day: the nothingness, the moment before sleep’s grasp. It is softness, a floating; kisses and soft breath., It will return. Then the mind slips to a warmer, floating place – please, now – the soft bed of freedom. Silence. Only […]


I Lord, my head is bowed, arms stretched across the narrow floor.   II The tumid wind rose, spread like night, & waves fell & ashes.   III Slowly I’m spent & time dries my leaving.

when you talk, i listen

I shook like a flower in your hand.   i was gone . in spirit                                  i was not . what i                                               was . but a shake of the head,   a nod.                                      not really understanding. everybody says I’m like           your playground companion.   When you rise I fall, like flies on death.

The Shoes, Sir

He is speaking but I can’t hear him. Not in any real sense. Elections, god you hate them. Three years is not long enough to cleanse the senses; to throw off the reams of promises, the taunts. This politician has a suit. It’s so Saville Row. Or Merivale. You never know nowadays. He raised his […]

work shorts

1. I’ve Never Known Anyone she walked onto the weigh-bridge carrying four black rubbish bags and I said it’s cheaper if I weigh you, stay there but you have to make the sound of a car. and she did, and the noise she made was like a bath toy, and I thought: what would I […]


Twilight paths move among the brown and green of is and been Many last light flight is neither heard nor seen Darkness folds it’s soft close o’er tree and stream and I Am in-between.

dissolutions in the morning 3

the skin on my finger tip is, rubs against your in- side,   dry & your smile is thin. Had a feeling you’d   be gone. Saw it clear, some- where when I shut my eyes in   daylight, saw red & when I passed on almost, black   . There’s a knock & I […]