H  O  M  E    &    A   W   A   Y      2  0  1  0
   n z e p c
Michael Farrell   

All Together Now: A Digital Bridge for Auckland and Sydney             


confessional poem


“there was blood on the bumper officer,

i (had) just meant to go

on mowing; & then someone – wearing a clown

nose – came up & presented me

with a handful

of larkspur (that unfunny flower). did i ev-

er tell you

of that hovel i made out of the ironiest sand:

it was quasi-black
i thought id never get it in to austral-

ia? (they sell tiger shells in the

opshop – a fact that

gives me no satisfaction … i built my

own establishment by

this ‘sea’.)”


This poem originally appeared in Verse

the eyes of loopy jordan


if were so
similar – why do we exist?
to sweat, to take

whatll never be taken? never take or break
      you twist till ... ‘
sunrise’.      similar      reach
for the trite. these
sores are? ‘... pay for making
us sound like u2.
’ – & you      ,      there
. fragments from the supper

sound      ‘train to russia’
or ‘it pulled me out of the river’
let me go      shot or.
what we make of      indigenous streets      rabelaisian,
for suburbs.      ‘...out of
the hole.’ genuflect when you see jesus,
little      or      the kind of –
black items of clothing spread on the carpet, a
white cord, the poles of the swings:
      for auckland

... marianne faithfull rabbiting gannet
shit for the garden
slings an iron tiki over the [yardarm
] sip something ...
you brought. ‘not reflection but dismantling whats
there.’ (or
ceasing to believe – infecting my body.
) ‘... because of

the name.’ he could see over all
the island. its not about having
whats lacking, but looking at what
      now drive & let
me call you charlie brown-


©Michael Farrell