Category: 2012

untitled   Against the wall but not forgotten my ukulele in the black cloth bag. I touch the strings and make a wish – play me some nyabinghi, for you I’ll free a frangipani to sing the air, adorn your ear.       Contents | About this Author

1 | 2 | 3 Henk It takes thirty five minutes to drive home, from his good job as an accountant at the hospital. He sings along to the radio ‘Hey der … girl … der street … fancy free …’  Taps the steering wheel. Remembers their wedding, her shoes…

1 | 2 | 3 In the beginning   Elsa wears a psychedelic bikini, gardening gloves and purple mules. She leans forward digging. Eyelashes, thick caterpillars below wide stripes of blue eye shadow. A strand of dark hair escapes a neat beehive. She stops and draws on a cigarette; stares…

1 | 2 | 3 Party Preparation Elsa pours salt into glass bowls brushes peanuts from her fingers   pale planets await the landing of glasses   speculaas, zootdropjes, hopjes sweet cinnamon wheels, licorice drops, creamy hard toffee   pottery-cram on window sills and sideboards delft clogs set on heavy…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 The Talk   In the dim hallway his head is full of psalms. When he imagines it, the organ shushes in his skull, but when he plays it, the dark church shudders, his own mute sins bellowed to the crowd. He is gathering…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Our sister’s advice on unrequited love   You will come to a place where you tuck a pink hibiscus behind your ear. Just for the walk home, and carrying all those groceries.         Contents | About this Author

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 My first mini-series Some white people were trying to help some black people get civil rights. I saw them all get shot dead down a dark shingle road. In art we learnt white is the mixing colour. Even if I stay out of…

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Alina I ache to be your indigo dress flowing over snow. Ivories from your music box, bone singing through the cold house.       Contents | About this Author

Capital Lightning (at Bar Bodega) Electric finger tips light up the Pōneke night sky, my solitude embraced – tahi, rua, toru, whā.   Bodily vessels rhythm to orange cabled chords, heavenly anchored to a Nord red, black and white.   A trinity of bass, drum and guitar pulsating feet to…

Waiting for an answer You are not the conversation whispered to a sleeping one nor the razor from the back of the cupboard you could be the stovetop before the coffee comes. Instead I hope you are the avocado ripening on my window sill. Next week ready to eat.  …