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Helen J. O'Neill

Fugacity 05
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Examiner in Sri Lanka


Stepping dignified from the cab I prickled
as heat wrapped round me like a musty duvet.
I staggered and gagged politely.
Avoiding broken pavement, rotting fruit,
the scaly upturned palm
I deliberately shut my nostrils
and my judgement
following the gliding sari to the unhinged gate.
I was important.

I lacked nothing.

I felt empty.



(First published Micropress New Zealand "Poetry for People" vol. 5 issue 2 2000)




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Last updated 22 April, 2005