Two Poems

The Man who Ate NZ

The man who ate nz started small
sipping delicately at her rivers before
taking a deep breath and gulping
down Lake Taupo in a couple of draughts.

The mountains fall to a quick snap; a crunch
of glaciers, then the whole land mass is ripped
along the fault line and slides over his teeth
like a melting pizza.
               The country opens itself

up to him, hills laying trees out on a slope
to catch the angle of his teeth.
               He picks the people out
fastidiously with a radiata,
sucks on a hollow tooth Ruapehu

could lose its lava in, then celebrates his feed
by shaking up the coastline and spraying around its spume.

---

From Denbigh to Macclesfield


When I was young at school, any
unfamiliarity of voice
or word unsettled us profoundly.
We'd call out from the depths of our unease,
"You should be in Denbigh", this
the local looney bin, another thing
we used to say.
               Later, shifted
to another town and school, I had
to place non-conformity anew,
"I know where you're from", someone would cry.
"Yes, from Macclesfield" would come the chorus.

I took a while to work out which new, strange
small town was now the index of oddity.

---

Return to CONTENTS