Note to a Young Blade I’m muting the memory of you: the self appointed morality quack— a sophomoric windbag in my daily feed, dishing up the secret sauce with reverse camera as default setting. Your serpentine schtick – so irritating – so lame it’s in dire need of hip replacement surgery. Your serpentine schtick –Continue reading “Note to a Young Blade”
Tag Archives: nzpoetry
Baxter at St Johns
Baxter at St John’s How you fill the armchair:neck & shoulders tilted backwith eyelids falling south;dreaming with every starbeyond our penitent dome. Once drunkard – now poet’s Christ:mouth turned from bitter sponge –how time trembles when voicesshatter the glass night –our words crackling over ice. ©️ Orion Foote
Radio Budapest
Radio Budapest(for Eva) Listen – an ancient tremoris shifting the landscape;teasing the waveswith her dark barcarolle.She’s gathering starsand sinking to baseline;the static of Radio Budapestcrackling inside her throat. In the voice of anothershe’s as still as a frog –wrinkled fingers entwinedover dark pleated skirt,head bowed & weightedaway from the light –her eyes cutting my wordsintoContinue reading “Radio Budapest”
Coming Home at Dusk
Coming Home at Dusk How faint the echoesof a loaded boomboxbelting out its metallic grind.Every deadbeat voice in townwould have been proud;delirious over the soundof a prodigal son – coming homein combat boots sinking under a naked sky.Making a scene with the tide – shaking your fist at the rainopen throated like your father;howling blueContinue reading “Coming Home at Dusk”
Byline from Blacks Point
Byline from Blacks Point Rewind to a church on the rise:we’re making rough cutslike Burroughs & Matisse,getting down to businessoutside on the lawn, where fishingangels catch us unawares.Inside, antiquated minutes baskcover to cover – wheeled outfor a good once over –itching for a footnotein this time weathered collage;our own past turned inanimate,as though in glassContinue reading “Byline from Blacks Point”
Tabula Rasa
Tabula Rasa You speak as if to remember;as if wondering how words escapethrough tiny cracks – I track themdown and revel in the thought. And what of the light switchthat is somehow jammed;neither off nor on, but stuckunwittingly in-between, picking fights with the fuse box. That is how these things are.This is how I learnContinue reading “Tabula Rasa”
Interim Eternal
Interim Eternal In ramshackle light,a stellata blossommakes its last stand;rallies against the blightof a humbug season. People live & dieby their own devices around here – minglewith those of another kind;gather nebulous clues to another’s Rubik’s cubefrom the corner of their eye. Some flinch at echoes.They shy away froma well meaning sun,or avert blinking eyesfromContinue reading “Interim Eternal”
Coming to the Point
Coming to the Point(Choka for Geoff) It was like joiningup the dots – a hard nosed roadof finding loopholes;of liquid nights down amongstsharp thorny tussocks;hell-bent on the art of war,like a drunk pokiemachine with an axe to grind. Basho doesn’t wastehis days – he makes lemonade,plucks tart cherries fromsprawling temple tree blossoms.I see him watchingfromContinue reading “Coming to the Point”
On Any Other Day
On Any Other Day Perhaps it was no different than any other form of misfortune.Like waking up with a screamerof a cold, or Bells Palsy on the morningof a GQ cover shoot – bad luck,but there it is in plain scrawl.Died by the visitation of God It was the accepted lingo;a way of embodying theContinue reading “On Any Other Day”
Devices ‘n that
Devices ‘n that It seems faith has been renewedat the vape store this morning.All that concrete clutter and bigblue smoke has had it’s way with her. Aspect ratios and minoraffections of those left behindhave cut tracks on her forehead,but she is of another sprightly coil.Rear view mirrors have shownher these things tend toevaporate—settle into aContinue reading “Devices ‘n that”
Visions of Orion Poetry 