poetry

Found in Enn Zed

Found in Enn Zed

other countries you don’t know where the hell you are
this country’s small enough you don’t get lost
even in Christchurch you can climb a hill
and see the sea and
(Allan nods)
know, oh, yeah, that’s where I am!

aren’t we all looking for a place we won’t get lost?
where Tāne Mahuta will watch over us?
where mana doesn’t equal money
and the power and design
of an unfurling fern frond
is revered by everyone?

actually, no,
I suppose most Americans
aren’t missing these things
which makes them all the more
bittersweet to find
at the antipode to my existence
where I’ll never be home

poetry

cash loan

cash loan

a convoy of dollar signs
marches over the hill
and the first voice says
I need
and I need
to know what to say
and how
meanwhile the rain doesn’t let up
and the path isn’t clear

poetry

Weka with a Walking Stick

Owen took this photo.

Weka with a Walking Stick

little tokoeka comes hobbling along the strand
planting his walking stick
in every likely bit of wrack
big clown feet marking up the beach
with dinosaur tread
tiny round bum barely balancing him out
and we’re all transfixed
our prayers answered
but this biggish bird just keeps going about
his jolly way
slowly becoming mammal
not realizing a whole people
have named themselves after him

poetry

SPF infinity

SPF infinity

the middle-aged cashier gives
the inevitable antipodal greeting:
How ya goin’?
all business in her short sensible haircut
and utilitarian bifocals
she scans things quickly
leaves them on the belt
for us to pack ourselves
then suddenly stops
seizes a bottle
looks at it quizzically

What’s this? she says
and I almost answer
it’s sunscreen
before I catch the twinkle
in her eye

We’re feeling optimistic
I say weakly
while rain lashes the store windows
but she just smiles
and shrugs