On a Good Day
Mount Vic presides over a slab of lapis lazuli,
Retro Ricky T-shirts crowd the cake tin –
tonight’s the night the Phoenix striker gets one in,
kaka call their way across the Sanctuary
& Tawhirimatea’s all out of puff.
For a moment we might even forget
our gouged graveyards, wrecked centre,
the shiny, hollow towers that stand testament
to those who’d rip out this city’s liver
to make the traffic move a minute faster,
who’d bury our past quicker than any Richter-scale
taniwha. Oriental Parade. Here’s a thing:
fill a bucket with the sand we stole from Golden Bay
and take it back on the Interislander.
Don’t forget to click on the quill to the left to see other Tuesday poems.
“Who’d bury our past quicker than any Richter-scale taniwha” – unfortunately not.
I do hope not to see a major quake in Wellington in my lifetime, I could hardly bear to see both my favourite cities destroyed.
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