new zealand electronic poetry centre

A N D R E W   J O H N S T O N


For William Johnston, born William Coutts

Born, at least.
A little light
in the east.

What was registered
is legible –
Braik’s Close –

the light
breaks close.
What the records

said. A little
about your head.


Jean ,
her mark,

at the
paper mill:

acres of paper –
imagine her face –

acres she tills
and leaves



That streak natured
or nurtured –

a little sadness
handed down –

bother in Angus
and anger and sadness –

it stows away
and is stowed away –

a broken branch
in Brechin.


The field I think slopes slightly
and the man who stands there

holds himself upright –
it is an act of will

against all to which
he might be inclined –

life lived as a slight –
instead of this the light.


Force the door with this ,
his certificate –

that he lifted himself
into the furrow that runs,

as I think of it,
across his brow



Last updated 26 April, 2006