5min pressing a day (#298)


Hearing music drifting
across rice fields
around the lemongrass
a strand of banana trees
along a lumpy road
and to us here
lying in the grass

Listening to the music
and story
through the night
of the court
of the palace
the audience hall
and the queens chambers
the delerium of a mythic past
swirls in and around us
and in the intoxication of it all
it is as though it is part of our life

A rambunctious confusion
no – your lot weren’t invited
to the palace life
I’m afraid to say
if they were really lucky
they might catch glimpses
of action through wrought iron gates

From the other side
of the wrought iron gates

Yes, your lot
they had been out all day
cutting the grass, knowing all along
that tomorrow it will rain
and need cutting again
and the buffalo need feeding

It is like having your hair cut
like shaving off your stubble

It is like cleaning the bathroom
and brushing your teeth

So listening to music
slightly second-hand
flavoured with dreams
evaporating from the soil
and blinking lights in our eyes

Lying in the grass
listening to the drama
if I roll over I might squash you

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5min posting a day (#297A)


A rabbit talking to a cactus
on the riverbank
the cactus telling the rabbit
how hard it is these days
being infested with ants
and all of the other things

Looking at the river
swollen and swelling still
a lone figure walking
along the stopbank

How to cross over
as the buddhists say
how to cross over to the other side
looking at the rising tide
of water

The cemeteries are full
of people who died crossing swollen rivers
crossing rivers and falling off horses
but crossing the swollen river is the only way
to get home

The world cut evenly in two
I’d jump in if I could
says the cactus

Anything to get rid of these ants

I’m worried that it will flood my burrow
says the rabbit
because then I’d have to sleep out here in the open

Just like that lonesome figure
out in the open

It’s hard being a cactus
not being able to run
from these darned ants
It’s hard being a rabbit
always on the lookout for wild dogs
sleeping out in the open
It’s hard being lonesome figure
not being able to cross the flow
always waiting for the river to recede

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5min pressing a day (#296


Sitting together on a bench
at the end of the day

One should never read when blessed
with good company

Insolent book
impudent book
insouciant book
refuses to hold itself open
instead closing itself
like a trap
like a child
needing to be taken by the hand

Reading in philosophy and ethics
such a noble thing
especially when observing the assumed superiority
of herbivores
of newly acquired
of toilers
and the bourgeoisie

There on the park bench
in a fortissimo voice
seemingly at some kids
on the side of the stream

You can see the eel from the bank
but if you want to catch it
you’ll have to take your shoes off
and get into the stream

Having said that
watching the end of the day

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5min pressing a day (#295)


Two lady singers
with hair pulled back
bulbous foreheads
sometime in the middle of opera
sitting off to the side

They talk at a low volume
slightly below that of the background noise

Ours is an equally tempered life
is it not ?
it is

What shall we talk about ?

They will talk of the names that people have
in an onomatopoeic world

like the sound of a pair of trousers
being ripped in half

How about this
the sound of someone bending over
and farting

After a short burst of laughing
I once had a dream
that our name is like a piece of wire that surrounds us
a loop aerial
wound around the circumference of our life
stopping stuff getting in
stopping stuff getting out
a band of frequencies
to which we are attuned
our names

is the sound of a tyre going down

the sound of a cabinet being ripped off the wall

blowing up a balloon
then letting it fly off
without tying a knot in the bottom

Their laughter is a bit louder

the sound of sheep being led into a new paddock

Their cue to sing is coming up
one of them seems to be bursting out of her clothes
in excitement
the other opens her handbag
looking for a mirror
it seems to be full of things
larger than the size of the bag that contains them

Teir cue comes
they sing

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5min pressing a day (#294)


Sometime in the middle of the night
sitting-up with a start

A volcanic vent seems to have appeared
here in the bedroom floor
there are cracks in the cement
steam fizzing through fissures
stretch-marks in the carpet
maybe even a few blobs
of lava oozing out

My recommendation, dear
is that we jump out the window
without further ado
dithering or dallying
we will need to run across the hot floor
which might be uncomfortable
but we need to run across the room
go now !
before the volcanic activity increases

Climb out the window
shimmy down the side of the house
and run !
We hope that it is only a small vent
and doesn’t spread far beyond
the boundaries of the bedroom

From a safe distance wondering
how it might have been
had it been a wooden floor
one can picture
a light mist of steam emanating
across the whole floor
or bits of lava
sticking to the bottom of the floor
sizzling until it ignites

It’s a shame
but we’ll probably have to leave
a house in the middle of a volcanic crater
is not a good place to be

We cast a sad thought to
the little magnolia in the garden
that we planted last week

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5min pressing a day (#293)


One warm evening
after leaving the society of international
kissers and kisses
thinking in unison, together
they might write a book about their adventures
it will be a novel
with a dashing hero
a handsome man
and an equally fair maiden
together they will live in a land
of softy dreams
of jelly and ice cream
fluffy around the edges
and spongy inside
they do not know of caution
they threw it into the wind
long ago
they watched it fly off on the wind
one cold day he went to the cupboard
to find his beret
had shrunk
it had recently returned from the wash
no longer a beret
it had become a fez
tightly fitting
and rounded on the edges
everything is accepted
she says
at the society of international
kissers and kisses
whether your nose is long
your tongue short
and your eyes bulge
even if you have a pimple on your chin
it is an excellent club
to belong to

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5min pressing a day (#292)


For the evenings recreation
reading a story
‘A soldiers winter’
to a group of those who remained
after the

My son has three eyes
says one
all of my children had three eyes
and this one stunted arms and legs
a whole bus full
with arrested development

They all had hoped their life to be
on the sunny side of the fence

One night a great wind arose
out of nothing and nowhere
a grey wind
locals had thought it angry and uncaring
blowing the windows open
sometime in the morning
the neighbours metal pan
blown down the path
the branches of trees
and piles of leaves

Then later we found the truth
the wind was merely clumsy
so don’t worry
and go home

Their unfortunate stretch of time
seems to be a peculiarity
of the local environment

Down at the park at the end of the street
a young boy with three arms
scooping up armsful of leaves
climbing to the top of the mound
throwing them into the wind
his friends with three eyes
and those with none at all
watch them fly

Not far away
his sister looking out from her window
this is the best piano lesson ever

Seeing the streets all lined with red
walking along their way
pohutakawa flowers all fallen

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