THE TRACK TO ANGEL FALLS

Above us floats the vapour trail
the angel left when he fell
and splashed the pines with melted lead

We scramble over the crumpled snow
that blocks the glacier's snout
ribbons of scree clutter the path

Is this all there is? winding winds
whine through the gully, keen
keener, keening, Is this really all?

I tell you I wouldn't have
this road as a gift, Then I wonder
what I said to make you laugh.

THE LATE LATE SHOW

Seen it before, god knows
(how many times?)

Remember the part
where she breaks his heart
in two short lines?

One note from the wings
starts the long long song
of the end of things

Blue is best
in black and white,

LAST POST

First we took Manhattan
then we took Berlin
We sang of free love, Mao and Marx
and nitroglycerin,

But now the terrorists are brown
Our ponytails are grey
There is no place for us in town
So we have marched away.

We're busy wee crocks on lifestyle blocks
A hoot of bourgeoisie –
We sing of olive trees and chooks
And biodiversity.

Today we recite he RMA
While whacking fenceposts in:
Next week we'll hit Taihape
- and how about Levin?

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