new zealand electronic poetry centre


Bob Orr

online works

Last Test

        for the clowns

Where there were lips
like laughing
there is now a smirk
of blood
where there was
a face
upon which
you could put any colour
there is now
around the skull
a white bandage
& up a side street
in Mt Eden
through a forest
that has
no leaves
through the batons
of the Red Squad
the paddy wagon
like a giant white refrigerator
goes revving . . . we needed
the clowns
you needed the clowns . . . you
who tore them
as if they
were posters
of some ignorance.
I had seen
half drawn
venetian blinds
in Marlborough St
an old lady by herself
whose hand had waved like a dove
at us . . . the only kind
of salute a clown
could dream of.

Bob Orr

Last updated 11 May 2001