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My father's speakers

I worked a nightshift at the BP service station on Junction Rd in New Lynn. I remember driving home one night and ‘Round Midnight’, the Thelonius Monk version, came on the car radio. It was very moving. A guy I worked with named Pete always had lots of pot and after we had locked up the place we would stand in the automated carwash and smoke a joint. One night it was incredibly foggy and I drove home very stoned. I hardly knew where I was, the fog was so thick and I ran over traffic islands and up curbs when I missed corners. The afternoon my sister called me at work to tell me Dad was dead, Pete was working too. He came to see me at my flat in Dominion Rd a couple of weeks later. I think we got stoned.

He told me he would wake up
with his wife giving him a blow job
I told him my Dad was dead
I nearly fell over
I cried in my boss's office
where I'd smoked cigarettes in the dark

The dead industrial zone at night
with the orange street lights
we smoked pot in the sleeping carwash
and drove home in the thick fog
over traffic islands and kerbs

I galloped around the forecourt
on an office chair with wheels
Years later I put a microphone in front of
the rattling wheels of a similar chair and recorded it

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then slowed the tape right down on playback
It sounded like a busy port with ships and seagulls

He came and visited me a couple of weeks later
we got stoned, it was a kind gesture
I thought about my Father's stereo speakers
My Father used to think about his Father's radiogram

Pete got a new job at a plumbing supply shop
in Onehunga
Back at work, I found the security cameras
oriented toward the staff behind the till
The BP area manager sat me down
and issued me with a written warning
for spending an hour and a half of work time
crawling around in the roof and making insultiing gestures
at the camera
He told me ‘You've changed’
So I told him my Father suicided a few weeks ago
That shut him up.

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Find the

Find the man that wrapped a piece of sellotape
around this can
Here at the dump we try to discover the source
of adjusted junk

Find the man who threw away this bread bag
full of broken and run out pens
Me and Dan pick through the rubbish
like stupid fucking hens

Find the kitty who once wore this collar
around its neck
find the dog whose owner screwed up
this registration cheque

Find the boy that drew in green felt
on these toast crusts
Find the girl that let the banana sap dry
set into tiny busts
and chucked them out

Find the woman who threw this hook
into the fire
Shiny silver in the shop, then red hot
Dan holds it up to the light
we're gazing at its black thread

Find the man that bit at the end of this pen
chewed the middle of the switch thin
like an axeman at a log on a stand
throwing glances between splinters
at the progress of his rival

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and the blue log breaks apart in his teeth
and his penduluming arms wet with sweat
stop swinging
and tiny fragments of blue bic plastic
are caught in the net of his liver
or burned up in his bile

Birds and Gates

Battery hen
Mag Pi
Thrush F-16

C gull
Troll 50
Sparrow screen

Duck
Vagina
Pigeon neon, freon

Night class
cracker crumbs
Vulture gates

Not nor
Budgie microscope
Kates

Gingerbird
close bracket
eating

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Millet minus
finch
fraction hatch

and or bell
yellow seed house
claw

Newspaper smell
page number
drop the

droppings
shit
bird shit

interfeather
flapping program
flocks of figures