watch me is Glimmering is Shard is Moon, Diadem? Tourniquet. Clusterfuck Mind -bomb. holePunch. Shadow: the shadow crawls drawls on the sidewalk. the chestnut canters arboreous wood, upsets the underbrush, my vines once laden, my boughs. no help for lost for a sign: you! here when i never, when i never your…
Month: September 2019
up late
up late staying up late for so many things need to be said the day will not admit nor spare you a sheaf of hours to thresh in saying, for so many things need to be said, the town to be replaced by a fade of broken tears, the loves unbought to be paid for,…
Flying in 3B
So there he sat. Two rows forward. Aisle seat. I’ll see. Front row. One see. Sharp-dressed nonchalance fashionably. So pleased with his iSelf hiSelf. Unboxed new ear buds and pulled out his iPhone. hiPhone. Look at me-myPhone. Launched his music app and tapped play. Back Street Boys clearly audible two rows back…
Roses and Anchors
Unique, with meaning beauty and feeling. Determined to choose the perfect tattoo. Rose. My Dad has one on his forearm. Red. With my Mum’s name across it. Green ink now bled into his brown skin so you can’t read her name anymore. Which I quite like for the sake of my stepmother. Tribal…
Hat With A Feather
The hat is where he left it He is not in the field The years have passed I still expect a work-rough hand to take it from its peg, to check the red feather in its band Its poor brim is bent down He pulled at it in habit – wore it in rain and…
Offensive Keep Cup
Beaming barista barely visible over her bench. ‘Kia ora’ says me. ‘Kia ora’ says she. Te wiki o te reo Maori. ‘Long black’ says I. ‘He pango roa.’ My keep cup handed over. ‘Bloody try hard’ mutters grey-head behind me with angry eyes rolling to the ceiling. How offensive must my…
gratuity
moth-winged the sail spread crepuscular oranges, red. lines of sky, sea. i fold; stems bend, petals before thee, o strange one oh mystery. she plays intermittently with hair, hands, her art eukinetic leaves no trace of cutting. strikes the object of her knowing. i don’t…
Sea change
Will do became didn’t. One day never came. Dreams to be special. Up ended the same. Downplaying desire. Safe settled at ease. Boats never rocked. Harbour over high seas. Sheltered from risk and uncertainty. Cure worse than disease. Mediocrity. Striving for perfect. A sterile fixation. Right favoured over imagination. The realisation…
Threesome from Hell
(from a long time ago) You made me this way. Pointed expectations. Craving your praise. Tryangulated. Deadicated. Manufractured myself. Hard edge serrated. Holy hell trinity. If only I knew. Me, I, and fuck you too.
comms
you was here i know. your dear bones years hence – the impossibly distant future. not even stones are what they was & lingo so dumb! hands tabled drums – – / anapaests scratched on skin, hotel doors, spondaic fist falls: Will Not alter…
From Rotoiti’s Heart
Fishtail’s fangs dripping white blood from a passing cloud. The Richmond Ranges biting into the cool blue sky. Wairau’s braided arteries spill shining into Cloudy Bay. A bronze beaver stands, sterile. An artificial, rigid, vigil. While sleek black eels seethe under Opoua’s dark glass.