Category: 2013

1 | 2   BROTHER, THIS IS FOR YOU   Like you can’t roll your rrrs, like you hate you say wif not with, I wonder if some birds, the one at this pittosporum for instance, has a compromised hundred voices can’t eek at the end of his shuddered pirrup, can’t round his guttural purr in …

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1 | 2   A N A T O K I   S P E L L   He shovelled paddock shit for his keep which she spread on lofted soil for her keep and their keep was mattresses floor lain above a woodwork workshop sawdust lain. The rain sounded like it knew the place, brittle cotton …

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1 | 2 | 3   THAT OL’ SILVERY   You can find yourself gobsmacked by light –   this shaft of moon troubadouring pell-mell down your ceiling, solid-looking, milk-white – the kind a child from Sendak might slide down, though not quite.  Edges so sharp they could cut.   It overlays the yellower neon refracted from …

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1 | 2 | 3   Resting place   She will come to this spot when the wind has hushed its hollow tongue she will come to this spot and face the sea.   She will come to this spot in morning light and listen; the squelch of a bicycle’s rusted brake, the evolution of …

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1 | 2 | 3   Inquest   1. Deposition. The process of changing from a gas to a solid without passing through an intermediate liquid phase. Don’t go up into the garden just call the cops. A woman types my words never looks up. I make contact with his mother in the front row, …

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1 | 2 |3   Dialogue   Here you are, walking the video camera up the steps toward us. I am unstrapping the children from their car restraints.   You have stayed at home and cared for our youngest. I rewind the tape, caught off guard by the pair of you   playing on our …

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1 | 2   Picasso’s tenderness   A nose with two eyes high in it as if they’ve fled together from what is on the other side of the face what the face is facing.   And the nose so big and high and forlorn. How tender it is. Not a bone but a veil …

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1 | 2   Holding hands   Walking behind them in the narrow passageway I see their hands join while their heads stay high and I think: equal energies, equal affinities.   Down their sleeves (his jacket, her blouse) run currents the early evening stars detect and whose meaning is held in great museums.   …

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1 | 2   Not home   Right now is not Home. It’s more a classic Kiwi camping ground. With the salty lick of a Tip-Top summer And the butterfly anticipation Of what may eventuate In the flimsy tent Lashed by wind and grit. Macrocarpas and magpies Nod their disapproval As cars wheel in the …

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1 | 2   Felix falls   What’s it like? To look down and out into space for God’s sake. To bum-shuffle out to the edge then plummet, plummet at warp speed. A death-helix descent. Steady breathing fragile membrane of normal between you and fiery disintegration. While the woman that bore and raised you watches …

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