it’s a matter of welcoming
desire moves the hand; pleasure, the mouth
observe[r]
Tag: nzpoetry
I had to unclog the kitchen sink earlier
I used the hospital grade bleach gel
the venue is called Te Whare o Rukutia now
the notebook and I have returned
its yellow beak pierces my soul and my blood sings
the teens yell about nothing and spit for nothing
a squat pigeon who haunts you
a daisy had glued itself to one
tiny dead face
tiny dead face
cultivated mushrooms seeking a little
more depth
at the troughs of soundwaves
it rains outside and it’s going to rain frequencies any minute
