new zealand electronic poetry centre

Leigh Davis

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It was then I found my cue old chum, high in the
harmattan, paper is bliss the way it curves back, following
Willy's leather chinstraps in the turn, ex Auckland (farewell
your diminishing routines & harbours) - into the several stars
this evening, over the sea, Willy's filling notebook
balanced under the reading lamp with Johns,
Rangoon and 1934 (tea or juice Algy,
Raymond's going to be frightfully upset) -

such an antique song.. picaro rises in his empty
journal, Willy, figure among roughs the sun's
setting 'such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces',
dreaming her salad her lasagne
& city kitchen where he goes/
on the airliner Willy beams & glows.



Last updated 4 October, 2009