turbine 02

Turbine 02
Gregory Dally
Emily Dobson
Cliff Fell
Janis Freegard
James Gardner
Chloe Gordon
Paula Harris
Chris House
Elizabeth Isichei
Andrew Johnston
Julie Leibrich
Anna Livesey
Robert McGonigal
Katherine Morice
Bridget Musters
Robin Naylor
Nic Newman
Naomi O'Connor
A. E. Rothman
Frances Samuel
Richard Smith
Catherine Vidler-Smith
Margaret Vos
Louise Wrightson

Chloe Gordon

Work by this Author:
   The Last
   Friend Whose Parents Were Hippies


you dislike
          hearing sad things
especially in summer,
but my mother
finally thinks to cook a meal,

opens the wine, pots the pasta,
changes her mind and goes to bed.

She was dressed for sleep
Lemony tortellini
in its own sweat.

Six three oh.
The news is halfway through,
but all those
          other voices rise —
on your streets the people come and go
talking of isobars and global
     warming; ice islands
          stretching apart,
floating their own way
     over recalcitrant seas.

Down by your lagoon
students buy rum gelato,
young burghers hoping
     for love
by ice cream.
          If they sit
and dangle their feet, they see
a few flying fish, pinnacling
     above the cool water like satellites.

But my mother, Wellington, you have overheated.
Your stubby fingers besot her, they make
          seem acquainted.
Potent city,
     she cares for you,
she wanders
at your palms.

Seven oh oh.
The fish in the lagoon
     mouth tiny bubbles
and do not
leap. My mother sleeps, with windows open,
     breathing by reflex
as I
clear the kitchen.

On your streets, the people think of evening;
far and quiet, those lips of ice still falling.

« previous
Hosted by New Zealand Electronic Text Centre