Tony I see you play
tired eyes and voice carry
the guitar away
Tony ragged hair falls from the brow
something in the cauldron of the heart
gaelic and bruised
Fingers wrap and strum
flick and pinch the strings
so that ears like these we wear
can get a burst
carrying that guitar away
Tony I see you play
tired face haunts hands grip
the hidden beauty of chords
some spell in the lyric order
the road was alive with electric ghosts
spinning out of control
hunted down like stray animals
Squeezed into the side table
focusing and compounding
silent prayers
now the object is still
yet brimming with energy
magnetic and vicious
holding up a table cloth
coughing sparks and electric arcs
burning the carpet
feels like an esoteric healing
a soul in a box
transforming the outer layers into human flesh
where the inner layers consume the prior inhabitants
silent prayers and overcharged stares
looking right through the neighborhood
building little boxes for each house
so they might come alive too
He was just a head on the table
chewing food and no body to injest it
what a lucky eater eating forever
satisfied look, asking for the next mouthful
huge panels hung up behind the party goers
exhibiting the hellish battles yet to come to pass
a few years from now
we all gather round the table
to convince the few how we might destroy
and yet survive
The head on the table just keeps eating
when the mouth is finally empty
the mouth is begging for the next mouthful
we all bring bowls of food
for this human head on the table
it's like a hobby
it was a promotion
a blindfold nice
paying far too much
they approach us cheerfully
the facilities are incredible
They had the most attractive girl
offer me the contract
smile and hand offered
Without a shadow or a flutter
the building flexed bulged and muttered
turning to grin at me and invite me in
The structures sound and spacious
these people persuasive and insistant
offering the world
then excluding it in the small print
feigning surprise
the streets are danced upon by denialists
with overpriced clothes and personal stylists
all signed over to the long shadows
of these boutique box like warehouses
Into the market
huge cask boxes full of wares and eats
gloomy corridors and halls strewn with semi interested
hopeful potential customers
the great market
a body spreading out over s district
walled in by fancy giftshops
fond hearts orbit
friends approach the main road
thick with traffic horns and bickering
as the bus leaves some panic
it has it's own lane
the car won't start
wishful thinking becomes abrasive
Handbrake and gear stick goat
heat inside the car sickly sweet
the dip in the road
both the slide down
the climb up
illusions of satisfaction
The stationary traffic
calms nerves as you crack the window
and glance over at the overloaded road
neither you nor those cars are moving
Waikanae
The child between the horror and hanger
The umu and the peka
The mungatooks and Hemi matenga
Elizabeth is her root
From ill attempts at competition
right betwen the hills of heaven
Trashy pine and eucalypt dance
embedded into the native expanse
summers mild short sweet like half gas on element
Nostalgia on sunday past screams to stay relevant
not quite loud enough to wake the inhabitants
grandchildren and grandparents peep out
smokey chilly early winter evergreen and moss
spring thaw still rehearsing for stubborn frost
Sun held back by the tall poppy fume exaust
franchise shops and salvation budget cost
sand too light brushes knees till sore
soil so fertile the greenery flaunts
The southerly taunts
encourages a saunter
sunset over kapiti provoking thoughts
each day waves and gale yet such a happy glare
on the beach how has the fisherman fared
in small boroughs well tuned lawnmowers blare
Dawn is breaking over the sky
night broken away and awry
The land frozen bare and empty
no longer flooded just devoid
air is heavy
Inside the weave of the forest brush work
a complex code surreptitiously lurks
activating life from whence none might grow
from the darkest holes with the faintest glows
