"GOING STEERAGE"

I
Far flung
'round this sculptured globe
we still sniffed for steaming intestine'd streets.
Down here, drifting through
flaking whalebone under dark mountains,
watching fitful ocean sighs,
I glance over my shoulder
and I've never left.

II
All the world's full of London,
scented with its twists of lane and language,
tattooed deeply into our faces
like moko stories. Leaning histories sit
with weights of glory cloud
hovering over rubbished
back streets, like smoke
from hill fires across water. We were coming to virgin lands,

III
but stowaway London
eased out, stretching in glad rags and
inflexions in our new air. Perched fat on the beach,
whistling up winds,
watching tiny ships tip over the blue-green horizon,
an attic'd cargo-cult of pictures and stamped
treasures. I'll sing a wiata for her,
for restless London, warming here in the black sand.

"DOWNSIZING"

A women's magazine reported Paris
Hilton replaced her Chihuahua
- for growing too large.

The jeweled scales balancing
Paris's executive functions,
tipped in horror at
the sight of the gross
seething, teeming,
uncontrolled cell
divisions, advancing on
the inner sanctum.

An inner Duchess of Windsor
droned beyond the drapes
in sparse harmonies:
'never too rich, never too thin'.
A rapacious praying mantra
of leanness.
Chihuahua Tinkerbelle crossed
the line, a trinket falling from Hilton heaven.

Whimpering in the dark perfumed boot
of a sleek limousine.
Wrestled there in its corpulence
by sweating waiters.
Heading to Ranch XXL with Elvis. To mumble regret
over platinum feed bowls,
that diamonds are still a girls' best friend.

---

Return to CONTENTS