Conversations with Wolves
Talking to you is like forcing myself through a very small hole in a barbed wire fence with small brained certainty that the field on the other side is sweeter Continue Reading →
Talking to you is like forcing myself through a very small hole in a barbed wire fence with small brained certainty that the field on the other side is sweeter Continue Reading →
I’d forgotten I had this poem, which I wrote at the IIMML a couple of years ago, published by The Spinoff.
Here’s my first review, of Sue Wootton’s The Yield, which begins: ‘In attempting to describe The Yield and my response to it, I found myself referring again and again to the poem Lingua incognita, Continue Reading →
My position is imprecise Your greater momentum makes for a consistently inaccurate measurement To even the close observer, I am obscured, distorted by magnetic proximity They may try to establish Continue Reading →
A poem for Ed The day we met, we walked along Wellington’s southern coast, the dogs and the mountains in the distance ahead we called for them – Continue Reading →
You have to breathe twice as long twice as deep, up here It’s funny how you get the same problem if you go too high, or if you go Continue Reading →
A poem for Ashleigh Young. All the best things I’ve written are stolen used and reused, patched together from other, better things by other, better writers from books out Continue Reading →
Propesterous. What a grandiose claim. I’m personally offended, Sir. Maths has nothing to do with poetry. (That’s not true, of course, but I’m allowed to say it – It’s Continue Reading →
A poem for Blair.
I wrote this poem for Roz Palethorpe. It is called Keystone. The phlebotomist wanted to know what I was going to do with the rest of the day. I said Continue Reading →