new zealand electronic poetry centre


 Capital of  the minimal
K a y   M c K e n z i e   C o o k e

newspaper boy

Birds in the long grass,
mice in the wind.

Trees that turn leaves
on all sides, grey

sky, grey water, streetlight
- yellow pools,

stony footsteps - early sounds.
A rock to weigh down a pile

of newspapers
and the boy who will deliver

them, his large, empty bag
a burden he suffers.

And protest too in the drag
of his feet as he crosses

the empty road; reluctance
in the quiet rasp of his sniff

as he bends to halve the pile.
But by this time Iím at the Sea

Scouts hall and the boat-sheds
hearing in the wind the tick

and flick of rope and rigging
against staff, spars, metal poles

and from the clifftop, despair
in the scrawny cries of Vauxhall's only rooster.


© Kay McKenzie Cooke 2004


Last updated 13 August, 2004