
before we can spec the ground floor studio
the verdict’s been posted by the tween
the view from arthur's point
ain’t worth a million bucks
if you can't catch wifi
for a single insta
in the vale
brutalist realty
for century 21

on routeburn
we meet two nice guys
one before one after
bridal veil falls
brian's been bonding with the universe
telling him to ditch construction
pick up a different brush
represent mount hikurangi
in water and acryllic
he heeds what quiet birds tell
don't ford the river
rain can build
to a point of no return
south island robin puffs up his breast of beige
hopping to greet us as the skies clear
like all his breed
a curious and friendly tom
putting no distance
between us and song
we heed what his lyric signs
while rain lets
retrace our way in double time
imagine the disquiet
when this peace is rent
by guttural shouts
urgent like death rattles
rushing to help
only to find
they were made by
three giggling louts

It’s a trip marked fully by the fully marked
Portents abounding from Rome to Florence to Cortona
Every step to the Brunelleschi cupola worn by forebears
Every snap in the Ufizi stale before the iPhone is aimed
Sunday afternoon taking out the trash to eco appropriate bins
(Even this task not mundane but meaningfully marked
so glass does not mingle irrelevantly irreverently with gross)
one finally has a roadside encounter shared only with the divine




while watching for weedy sea dragons
where reefy sea grass ought to flow
instead this one peeks
in proof of alien life?

black-winged stilts i’ve read
are known to be
collaborative home-makers
and gregarious waders
at the borehole we see them
daddy and mummy long legs
skipping skating skitters
tilted silted trippers




