If you lie
If you lie
in shit
after a while you don’t notice the smell
and you fear
if you cleaned yourself up
or left
you’d miss the warmth
It’s easier
I’m told
to lie
even in shit
Winter 1983
If you lie
in shit
after a while you don’t notice the smell
and you fear
if you cleaned yourself up
or left
you’d miss the warmth
It’s easier
I’m told
to lie
even in shit
Winter 1983
At St Mary’s College in Wellington, in addition to spending hours practising the piano, I entered a national poetry competition. “Nothing is,” I wrote, “what is cannot be and not be”. That’s nailed it, I thought, on the tram going to school. Unfortunately Sister M refused to enter my poem. Both I and the poem were a disgrace. We were shocked. She never displayed passion but, that day, she had an important message. She thought I had dumped God. I hadn’t then. I was blatantly and badly channeling Gerard Manley Hopkins. I continued to write, and you can read my poems (so far) in chronological order or you can browse the list of poems A-Z.