new zealand electronic poetry centre

 

Bob Orr


online works


Australia

        for ian haley

The soldiers
in Kings Cross
were on leave from
Vietnam.
In the post
office
I sorted telegrams.
In Oxford St
in Sydney
I lay down
upon the khaki grass
outside the Victoria
Barracks
wall. In the summerís heat
the pavement
split & burst. Cracked
open a new design
of maps.
          Across
the street
two ladies from Spain
sold loaves of Sunday bread.
I heard their laughter
like an unmolested
language. In my
back pocket
I had a copy of Garcia Lorcaís
Gipsy Ballads


the only passport
that I could cross the street with.




© Bob Orr


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Last updated 11 May 2001