Ends And Ends

b e g i n i n g s of

the

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D A V ID

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M E R R ITT

b e g i n n i n g s of

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DAVID MERRITT

f o r

H a m i s h

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R a u k a w a

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Some of these poems have previously appeared inThe Whole Crack, Arena, Critic, Takahe, Otago University Literary Review, Wrapper, In Flight, Poetry New Zealand, SNAFU, Killing Capitalism with Kindness and Runner The assistance of the former Literary Fund of the QEII Arts Council is acknowledged.

ISBN © 1986/1998 Kitchen Table Press © All rights reserved. This edition made as part of the Bookworks Module for the MA Arts and Design course at Auckland Institute of Technology Colophon: Usual assortment of assistance. Created entirely without the use of Microsoft Products Copyright Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio or television review, no part of this book may be republished, reproduced, performed, distributed or transmitted in any form or media, or by any other means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information data storage or retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, his authorised agent(s) or his heirs.

Contents In Overdraft at the Bank of Human Kindness 1985 Eric Remember.....................................................................................................................................1 Taxi Driver............................................................................................................................................1 Ralph.....................................................................................................................................................2 Very Incongruous Sight.........................................................................................................................2 Ferry Crossing.......................................................................................................................................2 Fishing Haiku........................................................................................................................................3 Housekeeping........................................................................................................................................3 Parihaka I & II......................................................................................................................................3 The Saddest Thing................................................................................................................................4 The Last Time I Went Hydrosliding.....................................................................................................4 Watching New Zealand Films...............................................................................................................5 A Long Time/No Sleep.........................................................................................................................6 Auction at Noon....................................................................................................................................6 Saw Karl the Other Day........................................................................................................................6 Kate and Fran........................................................................................................................................7 Last Night..............................................................................................................................................7 Did not cheer.........................................................................................................................................7 Executives.....................................................................................................................................................................................8 Job Interview for Poets Wanted....................................................................................................................................................8 People ain’t sure about Bruce’s Guitar.........................................................................................................................................9 The Weekly Shave........................................................................................................................................................................9 The Works Do...............................................................................................................................................................................9 Here Comes the Colonel...............................................................................................................................................................10 Whiteware Rustlers in South Dakota............................................................................................................................................10 Exclusive Bretheren......................................................................................................................................................................10 55 Five Minute Poems 1987 Ringing Ears..................................................................................................................................................................................11 Home to Town...............................................................................................................................................................................11 Things of Interest..........................................................................................................................................................................11 Taxpack.........................................................................................................................................................................................12 House of Bethany..........................................................................................................................................................................12 Toilet, 7.30 pm..............................................................................................................................................................................13 Migraine Meals.............................................................................................................................................................................13 Voyeur...........................................................................................................................................................................................13 Dinner Partners.............................................................................................................................................................................14 Cures for Canine Depression........................................................................................................................................................14 Polish Coffee.................................................................................................................................................................................15 Getting into the Clock...................................................................................................................................................................15 Before You Start............................................................................................................................................................................16 Words Words Words......................................................................................................................................................................16 Recurring Dream...........................................................................................................................................................................17 Smokers........................................................................................................................................................................................17 Some Things About Datura...........................................................................................................................................................17 Incognito Manual..........................................................................................................................................................................18 The End of the World is Making...................................................................................................................................................18 Play the Kerosene Heater..............................................................................................................................................................19 Country Kids Day in Town...........................................................................................................................................................20 Jehovah Witnesses........................................................................................................................................................................20 Career Opportunity.......................................................................................................................................................................20 Big on Old Cars 1989 Visit to the ANZ Bank...................................................................................................................................................................21 Squash Racquet Man.....................................................................................................................................................................22 Plenty of time for mascara............................................................................................................................................................22 John...............................................................................................................................................................................................23 Helensville....................................................................................................................................................................................23 Poolside attraction.........................................................................................................................................................................24 Coldsore remedies.........................................................................................................................................................................24 Permission to busk........................................................................................................................................................................25 Graeme Drives over from Titirangi...............................................................................................................................................25 Waste of Money #204...................................................................................................................................................................25 Fourteen steps...............................................................................................................................................................................26 Old Dog, New Tricks....................................................................................................................................................................26 You can find music everywhere....................................................................................................................................................26 Be wary of the Health Professionals.............................................................................................................................................27 All the Yellow Cars that have past in the last eight Minutes................................................................................................................................................................27 Land Developer.............................................................................................................................................................................27 These are the Ingredients in the Coffee that my Father drinks, but only on Saturday.................................................................................................................................28 Commodity Buying.......................................................................................................................................................................28 Party in West Auckland.................................................................................................................................................................29

Hasty Notes/Frantic Scrawl 1990 SNAFU.......................................................................................................................29 Lets talk diameters......................................................................................................29 13 things about chewing gum.....................................................................................30 Things sitting on the shelf above Stella’s head while she is doing the dishes............30 Dot matrix...................................................................................................................31 Christmas/Summer/Armageddon comes early in the Remuera New World................................................................................31 Frank...........................................................................................................................31 Beach Scene #25, Dogs...............................................................................................31 Magnolia Tree.............................................................................................................32 Not many People notice..............................................................................................32 It’s not just the young..................................................................................................32 Sometimes it takes one thing to trigger another thing off...........................................32 Mr Harley Davidson...................................................................................................33 Bittersweet diary entry song.......................................................................................33 Which one is the Shark? 1991 Taro.............................................................................................................................33 I’ll Let Your Ex-Husband Think Whatever it is He Wants to Think...............................................................................34 A Few Ways For Lovers to Hold Hands.....................................................................34 Advice For Twentieth Century Romantics..................................................................34 4.06 am........................................................................................................................34 4.08am.........................................................................................................................35 Hands..........................................................................................................................35 Only Poet at the Night-Club.......................................................................................35 Can’t Get a Cup of Tea at the Railway Station 1992 Hard Arteries...............................................................................................................35 Big Shoes....................................................................................................................35 Family Resemblance...................................................................................................36 Nuance........................................................................................................................36 Dusk............................................................................................................................36 Things strike you at the oddest of moments...............................................................36 Body Language...........................................................................................................37 Rivers of America.......................................................................................................37 Old Friends, New Aquaintances.................................................................................37 Lobby..........................................................................................................................37 Flipside........................................................................................................................38 I Give My Heart to You 1992 Your ex-lover is obviously a better role mode for your son than me..........................38 If I let my mind wander, the odd tear falls down my face..........................................39 We will all watch each other grow old together..........................................................39 Downside....................................................................................................................40 Taumaranui Railway Station.......................................................................................41 This day starts out happy but by the end you are inconsolable...................................................................................................42 Going Back is never the same.....................................................................................42 Here’s to the end.........................................................................................................43 Notes from 1966 1989 First the Bad News . ...................................................................................................43 Cars and Trolley Buses...............................................................................................43 Babies..........................................................................................................................43 I get here.....................................................................................................................44 Anxiety........................................................................................................................44 Power gets generated..................................................................................................44 Milk.............................................................................................................................44 Mystical Interlude.......................................................................................................44 We get Contemporary.................................................................................................45

Introduction. These poems were written under actrociuos circumstances between 1986 to 1997. They were written to the backdrop of incredible times, not just for me in a personal sense but in a national and global way as well. During these 12 years a lot happened - and in retrospect, from the comfort of the computer this afternoon, most of it wasn’t pretty. It was a time of nepotism on a grand scale, of thoughtless stupidity, of banality, of cruelty, senseless assinine policies of government, it was the time of jenny shipley and bolger, douglas and prebble. the tradgedy is that even as I type this it is still their time, belittling the fact that while things change - well, nothing much of substance changes, much. I’m dead. Dead to the world and dead within my soul. So I guess its ok to write these things. Nobody is going to lean over my shoulder, read these words and say “oh no, you can’t go writing things like that.” Because I’ve died and gone to the kingdom of poetry. Where stanza weilding gods and godessess walk the earth and sneer at the lesser mortals coming out of the cookie cutter factory of Bill manhires “creative writing” course. As if some bunch of assholes know snit about that. Slick well grooomed assholes with an MA in their back pocket and market rhetoric in their hearts. Fuckwits. Drop dead like I have and see how the other half live, thats what I say. Get a real job. I used to think that. Really. I used to believe in so much. Not big things like the sancredness of the unborn child or of marriage or consume, be good and get a firstclass busticket to the kingdom of heaven. Poets arn’t made in courses taught by gate keeping figures weilding immense literary power who open and shut the portals to those they deem fit, no, poets are made in the crucible of fire known as the unemployment line, the scrapheap, the dosshouse, the last twenty cents in the trouser pocket with the hole in the bottom. Hear me out on this. Its important. Maybe. Yet. Yeah, yet. You know that time is passing when you start getting referenced by others as influential in their lives, work and careers. What have I done? I ask myself that question every night before fitfull sleep. Behad children, two of them. A plethora of crap up to my ears and a fraction below my nostrils. Slept in shite. Watched others, my so called peers and contemporaries, scramble to the top of their respective dungheaps and still realise that its still a pile of crap they built their “reputations” on. Do I sound angry. Ha. Outside its gray and raining. Hear me on a bad day. And drop dead yourself.

david merritt september 6, 1998.

In Overdraft at the Bank of Human Kindness [1985]

there I was, all sad and raggedyassed on the train from Christchurch to dunedin, imperial typewriter and a teas chest of possessions, moving south to get away from auckland and all that it had entailed., burnt out shadow of self but exhilerated, on the train! in auckland I had worked as the tour manager of a regae band called herbs, a great job for a pot smoking politcally active left wing twentysomething. But the endless nights of parties and sleep deprivation - the “if its Tuesday it must be Hastings” mentality - by the end of the last tour I did with them I remember that I crept into bed and stayed there for 10 days, blinds drawn, not answering the phone or the increasingly incessant knocks on the door. I was fucked. Before that I’d worked for bands up and down the country, booking tours and practisng fatherly forms of psycho-analyitical theories on the “artisitic temperament” in rock music. I’d had too many girlfriends. Too many bad relationships. To o m a n y t h a t l a s t e d a matter of nights, days, weeks or months and then petered out because I was “unwilling to commit” A

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Something inside me at the time said to me that I was different - to beware and to cultivate those differences - to revel in them infact. The stifling confines of my own parents marriage had a lot to do with this as well as the jaundiced eye on other peoples relationships around me. A car , a home, a radiogram a clean well fitted diaphram two and a half children s a i d B a x t e r . And it was the early eighties. I’m not offering up any excuses for my own chauvanistic standards of behaviour - hell loose morals were all around me on both sides of the gender gap. That was just the way it was I guess.

Eric Remember Eric remember the day of the drive to Ashburton, a slipping timing chain on the 12TL caused us grief and eventually a court action, a civil case, an appeal to Fair Go but that months away - with grey overhead weather and spring drizzle going to Dunedin you said and I was a willing accomplice but we only got as far as three joints before the malevolent clacking noise brought us to a halt by fields of delicate yellow flowers that seemed to serve no commercial purpose. We tramped the two-strand fence with dog and beat a path into the interior, lay down flat with only the sky and flowers visible there was light rainfall, the drone from afar of cars on State Highway 1. Later we had more joints and called sheep maggots nibbling away at the land. The dog could hardly be restrained.

Taxi Driver He took one look at my shoes then the shirt on backwards the paint - smeared trousers the dahlia in lapel the fresh cuts on the nose, wrist and forehead. He said life was like a boxing bout, if you drank too much it meant you took your gloves off and life slipped you a punch.

Ralph Please don’t stroke that dog. It only makes him psychotic and sexual.

Very Incongruous Sight To celebrate Christmas, the maindrag streetsweep man has tied two balloons, red and yellow to the handle of his cart. The music is by Verdi, Sibelius and Stravinsky.

Ferry Crossing This place is packed with American tourists, sad droopy faces crowned with glasses that show big brown eyes. In their twilight years they grow baseball caps, faces like beagles.

Fishing Haiku #7 One voyage upon estuary leaking craft headlong to mangroves. #12 Summer spent tackle trolling with no effect or cause fish ignored bait. #18 Beercan buoys atop net snare set to catch those who feed in shallows.

Housekeeping Once a roaring fundy now a gentle trickle, the water torture. drip - drip - drip - drip the tide sweeps the kitchen the floor is awash with polish it ebbs slowly like lost love.

Parihaka (i) Wood pile, open fire, pinetrees and sheep, bleat beyond the kai tent to Bob Marley’s stir it up and kids playing in the kitchen as the milk truck delivers todays 80 crates and ten of cream. I’m on a bucket weeping bitter tears weeping sweet tears. Taranaki is clouded today. (ii) Later, shedding pinefire tears down smoke flavoured cheeks we share cigarettes past lives present togethers.

The Saddest Thing The saddest thing I’ve heard to date relates to the career choices among seven year old children. “Wanna be a typist/secretary ‘cos they earn good money” The saddest thing is that the work ethic is so ingrained, sadder still is the way of the world we’re trapped in. Somebody is going to take her life from her and pay some bucks in compensation (as if those bucks could be compensation for lost lives) Taking our labour to make more capital, (it’s the way of the world) I’ve seen this land change from a hick town to Chicago in the space of twenty years and now I see kids turn into workers in less than seven...

The Last Time I Went Hydrosliding The last time I went hydrosliding we were all on LSD and I had my pet dolphin with me, a blue plastic model called Flipper, who got his very own rubber mat from the kindly attendant. I kept thinking my nose was bleeding and running red down my face but no, though later the germanic supervisor ordered me from the pool because my shorts were not of regulation. But I had stopped to grapple with the lane floats which had become like long water pythons coiled ready to strike. She called the pool security men and they were menacing big blokes with moustaches and regulation shorts over regulation bodies. Later in the changing sheds, I tried to talk to some young kids about the benefits of revolutionary socialism which I explained as meaning a jet boat in everybody’s backyard and then and only then did I notice, the kids all clustered around me in a curious knot, their fathers, all glowering and troubled by my presence, confirming their worst Jaycee fears about druggie, commie, child enlighteners. Outside in bright sunlight we threw eggs into the sky which broke yolks like a thousand suns and later we drove through an empty cemetery eating spearmint lollies.

Watching New Zealand Films (i) In rows we sit poles apart, fingers linked on unbending chair arms. (ii) Our eyes flicker across the room but avoid contact. In film glow we circle venus, suck on jaffas.

Long Time/No Sleep The third sunset brought it on, white flashes, horizontal/diagonal bars light and dark. Increased heartbeat laboured breathing indecisiveness. I’m withdrawn introspective blocked nose lips cracked face tight heat patches cheeks burning lids heavy. Head sinks onto chest easily shaking hands delirium trembles muscles bunched into knots occasional spasms in legs pins and needles cramp sore throat acidic stomach band of pain across top of waist speech slurred poor intonation some tendency to hyperventilate.

Auction at Noon A right assortment of social misfits and outcasts, old and new, dulled and sharp as pin. Some attempting to retain past personal journeys of memory, some engaged in spirited bidding to capture the present.

Saw Karl the Other Day Saw Karl the other day, skipping over kleensak piles, weaving and diving between the deadend walkers of the lunchtime office worker crowd, selling the dummy to old ladies in old coats, looping and soaring with 5 G’s of gravitational pull, leaving a curious wake of turned heads and delighted smiles. Across his chest on the dankest of white tee-shirts were the words “Karl’s Lawnlaying - Avondale”. His business was lawn laying - Holden stationwagon and trailer - out in the suburbs - creating front lawns, backyards, poolside surrounds. He pulled up inches from my face, stood on one leg, bent the other up so sharp his heel touched the bottom of his spine, angling his head like a giant crane or heron. He was wearing bright fluorescent orange M.O.W. pants. His walk, a daily celebration, was the result of therapy he had received for a childhood polio attack, the luck of the GP draw saw him well matched with a bewildered doctor who later travelled through Thailand in the mid-fifties, a journey that finally ended in Hong Kong, where he was a thin aesthetic who frequented the opium dens, studied herbal medicines and Taoism.

Kate and Fran Pullovers - polonecked, paintsplattered, ripped at elbows and hem, I have a photo of you in a close embrace, backgrounded by alps, two smiling heads in a big black shapeless body.

Last Night To see you both brought wry smile. But, sometime later you lost sight of each other amid the darkened crowded noisy smoking drinking partying goodtime people. Then I watched you stalk each other around the room with fear in your eyes.

Did not cheer Today at times, no sight heartens. Lovers, arm in arm, bum pinching, fondling, did not cheer. Bunches of spring daffodils bright yellows, greens held at jaunty angles in cradled bosom did not cheer. No smiles touched me - not one as I lurked, slouched, stooped watching sights today that did not cheer.

Job Interview for Poets Wanted I wanted to let them know that what they saw was what they got so I wore my worst clothing and previewed my three hour walks and how I sat in parks and coffee bars watching people - eavesdropping for alliteration and syntax and shape and form and then I told them that I was not really an office person and may not appear for weeks on end sometimes but they should rest assured that I would always be working even when I was asleep or during my lunchbreak.

The Weekly Shave I’ve been here for god knows how long trussed like a chicken in the straitjacket. Once I got wheeled outside onto the terrace. They kept the straps on even when I wet myself and had to lie there uncomfortably all afternoon. I hear voices - whispers and screams sometimes in languages I don’t understand. The drugs I’m on are good - the kind that amplify the sound of a leaf falling into that of a kettledrum or make the shadows creeping seem like stalking panthers.

The Works Do We had a works do the last Friday before Christmas, shut the doors and took the phone off the hook. Ross shot down in the truck and got a dozen dozen, a few 40’s of vodka and some orange juice. In three hours flat we get blind drunk, urinate noisily against the walls of public buildings then go home to argue with the wives.

Here Comes the Colonel When I was eleven, still a lad in shorts I walked twice daily past the site of the first ever Kentucky Fried Chicken place in New Zealand. It was at Royal Oak - I was at intermediate school. I watched in awe as it was built - the now familiar but at that time architecturally unique pyramid - shaped roof with its gaudy red and white stripe paint job, and laughing at the cut-out, life size figures of the Colonel. On the day it opened there was a queue of people stretching around the block and then some, eager to win the prizes of coleslaw and cocacola. The police watched as scuffles broke out amid the noise and fumes of peak hour Auckland traffic. Inside it was much more relaxed. I remember all this with sadness, the first ever Kentucky Fried Chicken place, because it put the humble lamb burger back 15 years.

Whiteware Rustlers in South Dakota No sheriff had been found game or dumb enough to rid the county of the wild Hissock boys, banditos who crossed the border and stole whiteware - washing machines, fridges, freezers, tumbler dryers - the odd dishwasher too. In town the people cowered behind their wardrobes, nothing was going to save them when those wild Hissock boys rode into town, with rustling whiteware on their minds.

Exclusive Brethren The women are wearing their hair long and straight, covered by headscarves, sit quiet and still, draw their coats closer around their legs and crochet baby booties. While husbands read magazines about hot rods.

55 Five Minute Poems 1988 Before You Start You adjust the light just so above the paper, wipe your nose on your sleeve and lean forward onto the desk. the thumb presses the chest a bit and four fingers hold the pages flat. You wait for the time to come up on the clock and start to write this. Behind you are the sounds of your dog asleep - snoring, your lover in bed, reading , yawning.

Ringing Ears The morality bells were strong that morning.

Home to Town The car is sick, barely does 40. Smoke appears up hills rumbles grumble down the other side. In a short while a line of cars appear in the rear vision mirror. The nearest one draws close, blinks furiously, overtakes angrily, and is gone.

Things of Interest It’s a yuppie couple, betrothed and in love exchanging glances in front of a jeweller’s shop display of engagement and wedding rings. It’s an elderly couple shopping around for a new compact disc player. It’s a drunk teenager standing up through the open sunroof of a Fiat Bambina and giggling. It’s five Friday night kids squashed into a phonebox ringing around for action. It’s discovering that somebody you once knew a long, long time ago now runs a pornographic secondhand bookshop. These are things of interest.

Taxpack I’ve never ever filed a tax return, twelve years now, never earnt enough money to pay too much tax. However the year I do will mark the turning point for the New Zealand economy. It’s the trickledown effect. My tax return is the light at the end of the economic tunnel.

House of Bethany You’re a good looker, lots around to have a squizz at over a pie and a Pall Mall plain. An old man comes out and stands under the awning, away from the hard sun. The House of Bethany, you cannot miss, it has signs from all angles. A younger man wearing tattoos, slippers, runs out across the road. He buys Winfield red, runs back in. He mutters something to the old man who follows him inside.

Toilet, 7.30 pm When you urinate for longer than normal, you wonder if it’s the garlic. You flush and weigh in on the scales. Look in the mirror, check size of pupils, mess with eyebrows. wash hands and run wet fingers through hair and over face. You leave the toilet and stand quietly in the hallway for a bit.

Migraine Meals Take 10 fish fingers, wrap each in a slice of buttered white bread, dip into fried egg yolk. Add tomato sauce, vinegar, salt. Drink two cups of strong sweet coffee. Smoke three cigarettes. Read the morning paper. Eat your breakfast slowly.

Voyeur Watch the wavering mannerisms of drunk young people as they down another and smile softly to themselves/their peer groups They drop their bags lower their guard light their fags lean forward attentively.

Dinner Partners The man in the grey suit was once the lover of the woman in blue. The woman in blue with the leather satchel and too much makeup is now the lover of the man with the hearing aid and the Austrian accent and the quiet woman in black is flirting with the man in the grey suit while nobody is paying much attention to the nice man at the head of the table with the big nose...

Cures for Canine Depression Concerned about the canine I took him from one white robed vet to another who reckoned on a variety of ailments and cures but charged a uniformity of exorbitant fee. the ailments ranged from mites, skin allergies, eczema, bad fleas, full anal glands, athlete’s foot and bronchitis. the dog was prodded and poked and shot full of Thorazine and other anti-scratching suppressants which kept him very quiet and made him lie down in the shade alot. Finally I took him to a naturopathic vet in Papatoetoe. She said take him off the drugs, feed him more vegetables and brown rice, garnished with parsley and brewer’s yeast, stop using plastic drinking bowls, take him for swims in the sea and games in the park, make lots of eye contact, tell him you love him, scratch behind his ear, blow gently down his nose.

Polish Coffee You can write these words at the top of a page and cast your mind back to supermarket shopping last week ago exactly, sipping it now that stuff called Polish Coffee standing cupped hands, remembering it drunk by my sister a two-time benefit mother/vegetarian/ painter/pipe smoker/french scholar ten years ago she scorned lamb. let me tell you that if you put in two teaspoons of clover honey or two nips of whiskey it tastes just fine either way it’s nice - black of course take a sip and think that at two-thirds the price of instant detergent/coffee it’s another cent a cup for the Polish economy which needs the money real bad just at the moment.

Getting into the Clock Put your face three inches away from the digital clockface, where the flashing numerals blur. Relax and count the on/offs on/offs on/offs. Eventually the last number on the right changes and a minute will have past. Draw back until everything focuses. Realise you have been getting into the clock.

Words Words Words Dad stood feet firmly planted on a pile of clay, stretched his gaze the length of the section taking in the house, the low-maintenance woodchip garden and the brick path to the front door. He said... when I first moved here four years ago - I was with my own kind - brick layers, nightshift process workers... now, I’m the last left in the street - up there there’s an insurance broker - across the road, accountants - next door a dentist. They don’t talk to me much. I think if I stay here I’ve got to learn a new vocab.

Recurring Dream Auckland’s become another Beirut, with regular rocket attacks and bazooka blasts and machinegun rattle. A Methodist Archbishop is mediating the release of hostages held in Hillsbourgh while a UN peacekeeping force consisting of officers from Pakistan, Denmark and North Korea have just moved into place in Parnell.

Smokers Recent increases in the tax on tobacco brings to mind several things - one, a memory of dropping all butts into an empty paint tin and in the weekend making fat vile cigarettes with two filters on the rolling machine.

Some Things About Datura are OK - but not Many If you sleep under the flowering bush on summer nights, stars ablaze in outside blackness, constellations swirl - you have really vivid dreams. That sounds fine. If however, in springtime you cut off a whole lot of leaves and flowers and boil them down and swallow them you end up blind and naked, crawling along gutters at 4 am, destined to meet the police and a bevy of psychiatric counsellors. This is not so good.

Incognito Manual To walk across town down the main shopping drag on thursday afternoons briskly and without fear of interruption, buy a ten dollar two-piece black suit from the schizophrenia opportunity shop go the whole hog with a tie, shoes, socks and thick-lensed glasses that make the world seem like an uphill fishbowl and your feet like giant paddles. wear your disguise, don’t look up, relax your eyes.

Career Opportunity Before the bankmanager dashed hopes I had the notion to travel overseas first stop was Manchester, England. I wrote to my uncle Les, asking about work. He was a shop steward for British Leyland, a hard line Stalinist.

The End of the World is Making an Early Appearance (Again) I have seen the spectre of the end of capitalism and it ain’t attractive in the supermarket last Thursday night, folks arriving to consume and there were no trundlers for them, harassed staff despatched to bring them back from the far reaches of the carparks, shoppers start to queue for trundlers it’s cool - but those minutes drag into the quarter hours and the shoppers are backed up out the door - waiting for trundlers those that get their carts set off, but it’s saturation shopping in the supermarket, a peak - like Christmas - but everyday, tempers flare as grannies careen off yuppies small children commandeer the cart and play stockcars amid the perishable goods section this is hell - aisle to aisle trundlers nobody indicates before pulling out no one-way system - no stop signs, some stop suddenly for fabric softener others do a series of nose/tail collisions behind them - then, baskets full of consumer goodies later, it’s the checkout counters which have all got three or four full trundlers parked in them, blocking the aisles - a fight has broken out in the magazine section - could store security please report to the Womans’ Weekly stand. I get to the checkout and tell the woman that she should quit now before the going gets really tough she agrees and contemplates a course on interior design at Carrington Polytech.

Play the Kerosene Heater To play the kerosene heater you need a kerosene heater, that floods kerosene flares kerosene fumes kerosene looks like a Bauhaus design kerosene heater with soft contours and white enamelled metal emblazoned with ZIP and lighting instructions, a grille, blocked fuel lines and... to play the kerosene heater you need only to light a match and... to play the kerosene heater you have to go to the local hardware store or petrol station and... to play the kerosene heater you need a clean wick and a stiff brush and... to play the kerosene heater you must know the right amount of kick to stop phase two flareout

Country Kids Day in Town you see them pinned down firmly in wide back seats, child restraint devices, or noses pressed against window glass leaving snotty marks father and mother sit ramrod straight

Jehovah Witnesses It’s early Wednesday morning it’s a loud knock on the door it’s the clothes thrown on it’s a head full of police with warrant theories. I freefall down the stairs to two Jehovah Witness ladies who smile and ask me to buy a book for five bucks. Embossed in gold lettering on a loud green background are the words EVOLUTION vs CREATION. One of them said your house just didn’t evolve onto this section it was created.

Big on Old Cars 1989 Visit to the Bank Productivity is pretty low around here. Sure, there’s the painter, check shirt, overalls, painting something at one end of the counter but there’s this guy in a ski jersey, RED WHITE BLACK loud stripes, moustache, talking with another minor functionary about the weekend spent skiing. There are no ties on them. And there’s muzak - I’ll have the last waltz with you into the manager’s offices which take up the four rooms on my left. The predominant colours are pink and grey and light blue. There is a smokers please tray over by a power point. Both are disused. On the table in front of me are a stack of last week’s NBR, with 8 signatures on the top right hand corner of each front page. A manager emerges from one office and goes towards another. He taps on a door, says excuse me. I overhear a bit of a nothing conversation, yes, yes, yes, then he’s back out, off into another office. The painter has now moved along the counter closer to me. He is carefully sanding something smooth. There are two more smokers please trays to the right. I look around, nobody is smoking. A secretary approaches and asks me if he is aware I have an appointment. I am not dressed like anyone else here except the painter - who has now disappeared behind a stack of pamphlets explaining high interest rates and the unavailability of new home finance. I figure now they see me, they don’t want to see me. I am not a corporate high flyer. I am more of a subterranean type. My trousers are stained with oil and kerosene and dirt and coal and ash and leek and potato soup and porridge. One guy has spent all this time talking loudly on the phone. He is trying to get somebody to repay their loan faster.

Party, West Auckland The wild west of New Zealand, a golden land of leather trousered opportunity, dress in black, ride a Harley, fall over in the mud, chew on a pigs head, drink beer, tend the fire, watch it all happening, wake up in clothes smelling strongly of wood smoke.

Squash Racquet Man He is walking down the steep gradient leading from Albert Park to Queen Street, carrying a full shoulder bag and a squash racquet. An instant before his feet touch the final flight of steps - he pauses spins around - his fingers fly to his mouth, I see his stance go tense. He is undecided, looking up towards the place where he has just come from, he spins around and taps his leg with the squash racquet, shrugs, turns, walks slowly up the hill, back into his past.

Plenty of time for mascara (i) I’ve been asking around for the ages of kids on school holidays, there is this tendency for children to look older, makeup has a levelling effect - they may look older but they are still kids at heart. (ii) while their appearance is a decade into the future, the talk is still pre-teen, you can judge better by the boys, who are gawky, goofy, uncertain, unconfident, they remain quiet, contribute little, wish they were older - hold out hope for their future. (iii) These are good kids - you can tell by the haircuts - they are the products of marriages between people with university degrees. (iv) They say that beauty is skin deep but nowadays beauty is only as good as a coating of Revlon products, worn as warpaint on the faces of 11 year old girls.

Frank John is a meticulous kind of guy, save this - save that. He gets used teabags, collects them after every pot of tea, tosses them onto a bed of chicken wire, lets them dry out in the sun. Then he stores them between sheets of newspaper, several months later he has enough to make a recycled tea bag duvet.

Helensville We’re a nation of people who aspire to drive on wide wheels, fats, starve the kids but... if childhood memories of places you once lived in are true, every small town would be a Gotham City. Instead, this Sunday afternoon, Helensille seems small and sad and drab and rusted.

Poolside attraction Swimtime is over at the pool. The boys are nervous, their legs swing ceaselessly under the table. They are growing up. Swimtime is over at the pool. It’s time to meet girls and sit at separate tables.

Coldsore remedies

Propolis tincture zinc cream aftershave witch hazel massive doses vitamin C garlic solarcaine spray ungvita comfrey ointment carrot oil aloe vera 5 litres of purified water gentian violet methylated spirits diluted dettol iodine marmite mercurochrome clearasil nylex salt water rexona stoxil lanacaine bergamot oil steam geranium oil fresh marigolds grow a beard don’t pick them.

Permission to busk I refer to your request for permission to busk on City streets playing a clarinet and saxophone. Since I spoke with you, I have received several complaints about your performance and I am led to believe that the instruments which you are playing are not really suitable for busking on the streets as it is too difficult to keep the sound to an acceptable level. I am sorry therefore that I must decline your request for permission to busk, but would reconsider an application that involved a different kind of instrument. A clarinet and a saxophone, however, may be quite acceptable in a larger open space and you could try playing perhaps on the Museum Reserve or Queens Gardens where lunchtime crowds gather. If complaints are received though, I would have to ask you to refrain from playing in those areas also.

Graeme Drives over from Titirangi It’s a good feeling to phone round and talk just hours before you boarded the plane for OZ. You drop everything, drive across town at high speed to talk, take stock, touch fingers - it may have been three years since I last saw you but again, as always, everytime we meet it’s just like yesterday. If only for a few hours we can sit, talk, smoke, drink, most of all laugh, this is a friendship built on laughter, smiles, jokes, puns - for we have memories built on memories and tonight we’ll build a new set to smile about, you and me, bastards both of us, but in the best possible way. You could say that we are a couple of good kiwi jokers.

Waste of Money #204 Launching top secret U.S. Intelligence spy satellites to read Soviet newspaper headlines from 140,000 feet is not so smart. Why can’t the Americans just buy their newspapers like everybody else? or have them sent by facsimilie from the embassy in Moscow.

Fourteen steps Some days - there is no reason to it, an empty mailbox will be full five minutes later. It’s a fine line between joy and despair when you walk the fourteen long steps down to the mailbox.

Old Dog, New Tricks Now his relationship was over, Eddie reverted to a bachelor diet baked beans from tins, cheese on toast, takeaways. He avoided lentils, never threw a cup of barley into a pot of boiling water. Best he ever did was a vegetable stirfry, once.

You can find music everywhere To add to his problems, noises came from the electricity meter box, in the still of the house at midnight he would make out strange subharmonics buzzes, clicks and whirrrs.

Be wary of the Health Professionals The dentist’s books are filled with appointments, names next to every 40 minute slot stretching three weeks ahead. My own name is nestled into the future, it’s my tooth here I say and point a begrimed finger. It hurts like hell.

All the Yellow Cars that have passed in the last eight Minutes Datsun C20 van, tinted windows Mazda 323 stationwagon, grey primer touch spots Ford Laser, bad surface rust Volkswagen Passat stationwagon, l.h. drive Ford Sierra stationwagon, black trim, towing canoe trailer Toyota Corolla hatchback, AA driving school Ford Escort van, muddy, curtained, running on three cylinders Hillman Hunter, driven by an old guy in good nick Honda Civic, glimpsed in rear mirror, stopped for pedestrians Vauxhall Chevette, red pinstripe, bad stains around petrol cap Mercedes SE230, man, woman, dog, grey interior Volkswagen Kombi, nuclear free with bullbars Mitsubishi Mirage, strange engine noises, aggressive Mini 850, brake lights working nonstop Renault 12TC, bad bog job and respray Ford Escort, missing trim and smoking Mercedes Bus, two-thirds empty, rear panel damage.

Land Developer He walks a measured metronomic tread as if sizing street frontages and square feet. I’ve got my eye on you, Mr Nouveau land developer. Black trousers, shoes, white shirt tanned leather jacket. The clients arrive, he smiles, hands over his business card. they file inside the house.

These are the Ingredients in the Coffee that my Father drinks, but only on Saturday Sugar hydrogenated coconut oil corn syrup solids instant coffee artificial flavour cocoa (processed with alkali) tripotassium citrate (aids dissolving) sodium caseinate dipotassium phosphate (aids dissolving) mono and diglycerides (emulsifier) carrageenan (vegetable oil) silicon dioxide (prevents caking) lecithin tetrasodium pyrophosphate (aids dissolving)

Commodity Buying (i) There’s a big pause over by the apples flatmates on the edge of becoming lovers have meaningful eye contact in the fruit and vegetable section. Both are smiling. (ii) The diet of the anorexic is potato chips, rice wafers, cracker biscuits and pepsi. (iii) Sad men in long black coats wander by clutching a tin of beetroot and a packet of chops. (iv) Mothers in the glow, grimace as child tugs hard on dangly earrings. (v) Indulged children are allowed their own trolley which they fill with junk food. Dad is buying the groceries this week.

Hasty Notes Frantic Scrawl

1990

SNAFU Pregnant bellies swelling like seedpods, some things are easy to see, I’m looking for signs of cracks opening up in other peoples relationships.

Lets talk diameters Take the surface of a wide, flat, plank and equipped with the latest Black and Decker jig saw cut a circular hole 18 inches in diameter. This allows sly objects to pass through into other spaces, to fall and tumble, fall and tumble, they are falling and tumbling, forever.

13 things about chewing gum 1. The main ingredient in chewing gum is Chicle. 2. Chicle is the milky juice extracted from the Balata and Sapodilla tree. 3. The Sapodilla and Balata trees grow mostly in parts of South America. 4. When you’ve chewed your way through the worlds supplies of Chicle, you can always start on Gutta-percha, a greyish-black latex from the rubber trees of Malaya. 5. Chicle and Gutta-percha are mostly cellulose. 6. Chicle and Gutta-percha are mucilage. 7. If you swallow chewing gum it forms a ball in your stomach. 8. There it does not dissolve. 9. Rather it hangs out for the next seven years. 10. Unless you do some really violent exercises which may force it to move out from the stomach and go flatting in the appendix 11. Where it goes crazy, complains about the rent and finally inflames into a full-blown case of peritonitis. 12. Now, chewing gum is no good for holes in the teeth. 13. You always find chewing gum stuck to the underside of desks. 14. Wrigleys is the biggest chewing gum manufacturer in the western world/universe/encampment/ of the global village.

Things sitting on the shelf above Stella’s head while she is doing the dishes Spray and wipe aerosol, full Spray and wipe aerosol, empty 2 litre plastic bottle, lemon fresh janola Plastic Methylated spirits bottle, 93% empty Bowl of soap shavings Bottle of new 350 ml Glint blue glass cleaner Can Revolutionary Zippy oven master spray, Attacks grime in half the time 500ml bottle of Sunlight dishwash liquid, 2 thirds empty small packet of Panadol.

Dot matrix Who would have predicted the day when the sound of the dot matrix printer would form the aural wallpaper backdrop to the doctor’s waiting room. It’s a far cry - a long long way away from being aged 9, seeing my first electronic calculator and then, a month or so later, classmates starting to sport the digital watches their parents had recently brought back from holidays overseas.

Christmas/Summer/Armageddon comes early in the Remuera New World Interesting, a whole section devoted to imported cold-pressed cooking oils, a full two aisles of beauty and health care products. I check, there is no rat poison for sale.

Frank She is a woman sitting under U.V. lights, white top, purple, pink, shimmering. She glows for patrons, her hands are stretched, her fingers splayed out on knees.

Beach Scene #25: Dogs (i) Black female Labrador suffering from poor self image. The owner is wearing more clothes than me. When the dog fetches sticks from the water, it has an annoying bark. (ii) Large tan, fluffy, oriental Chow, it wades in up to nosetip, very delighted, it has a walrus face, it shakes over a group of culturally inappropriate people. The Chow has a germanic nature. (iii) Brown Ridgeback spoiling for a fight with a Yorkshire terrier, but they turn out later to be good friends who go swimming together over 30 metres beyond the flags. (iv) Alsatian called Alfie, frenetic sex fiend, he wallows in the shallows.

Magnolia Tree The lower arms of the magnolia tree have been pruned, there are a few stumps - all night people reached out to touch the truncated branches, hold onto them for a minute or two. One woman shook hands for a whole half hour.

Not many People notice. Shadows under trampolines... a fine grey and white mesh with the darker black blobs of happy children bouncing up and down.

It’s not just the young I notice lovers passing, stop, midflight in a crowd, they exchange soft biting kisses, he flicks a gentle palm across a nipple, she slips a hand down the back of his waistband.

Sometimes it takes one thing to trigger another thing off The fat man hoists his Pekinese out of the knee deep waters his daughter/sister/wife/lover, paper thin, splashes water onto the dog’s back as it heads for shore, where it stands forlorn, dripping and shaking, the waves running out of steam inches from his feet. Moments later the fat man in the striped trunks hoists his daughter/sister/wife/lover onto his shoulders and piggy backs her out into deeper waters, where they embrace in a way which father and daughter ought not to do. He carries her out of the water, they ignore the dog, fold up their towels, and walk off.

Mr Harley Davidson His hands rove over front pockets, thumbs outstretched, back in again up to his chest, then in a vertical line they move quickly upwards, he’s on a tab, his mana in this bar is great.

Bittersweet diary entry song Smart young things, cuffs of trousers turned up that regulation inch, shoes, socks that match. I’m under the stairs in a quiet alcove, on a couch, sitting and smoking. Men are looking increasingly Italian, slavishly follow trends and looks and things created 9000 miles away, they ignore the house, the street, the suburb, the city, their culture, their history. Yearn instead for greener overseas pastures, adopt a couldn’tcare-less attitude. Jane, my friend, sez they’re sleazy, the hair is oiled and slicked back, shoulders are broad - the back is straight - the gait is a lope, they wouldn’t be seen dead in flares.

Another Evening Spent at the Bottom End of the Hamilton Night Club Market. Let’s look around, there’s one of those computer generated displays - the words ‘meet your dream partner’ slide slowly sideways - there is something appealing about being the only poet at the nightclub except I’m with my friend James who is finding it hard to write in public places - ‘just do it‘ I say - ‘keep your head down’ - ‘there is nothing to it’ - we are all shaped by our environment - this is a good example - poets shaped by environment - environment shaped by poetry. the beers are working - noise levels have increased people are sitting on each other’s laps - lambada is breaking out all over the place - minutes later the first ugly scene - this is the happy hour booze is a dollar a glass - one man gets twelve glasses for his two mates - I watch his fingers coil and dip into each glass - frankly I am depressed. Two beers later and I don’t feel too bad one woman - a reformed smoker - has tried lighting up a straw and only now has she noticed that on the big screen by the end of the bar they are endlessly showing Hollywood interpretations of the American experience in Vietnam. She was another teen bride for christ. One man has a experimental hand over the shoulder of a woman - both are drunk they watch bemused as their friend sculls 8 glasses of beer in a row - he burps wipes his lips - sculls 3 more. Happy hour is now over - James dances with his dream woman - nothing will come of this I never listen to my fingers - this is where it all happens. fullstop. We clink glasses, toast reality, I’m going home to it soon enough.

Which one is the Shark? 1991 Taro Aroid, araceous plant, large bracted, petaloid spathe with small sessile flowers massed on a spadix Taro has panicle inflorescence.

I’ll Let Your Ex-Husband Think Whatever it is He Wants to Think Every morning so far, your flat-mates have inspected the bed, they are looking for crumplings of sheets and blankets or obscene stains which cannot be explained away as being tea or coffee or milo.

A Few Ways For Lovers to Hold Hands Hands can float inches away, mimic movements, have the merest of contact, flutter like butterflies. One thumb can gently stroke the area below the wrist. Fingers can intertwine, can be warm, calm, palm to palm or tip to tip, lightly linked, spoon-curled, squeezing.

Advice For Twentieth Century Romantics 1. Never wear your heart on your sleeve, people hardly ever notice. 2. They are all too busy looking at shoe styles. 3. Hearts worn on sleeves end up mis-shapen, rotting, fly-blown - resemble sad pieces of dead meat. 4. Stomped, gory, hearts attract little attention. 5. Rather wear your heart beneath layers of silk, wool, cotton, leather - hide it away, keep it private, exercise it rarely in fresh air, guard it with your intellect.

4:06 am At the counter, the well-dressed man is planting a hand on his wife’s bum later he stands directly behind her while they are waiting for their coffee. I watch their bodies press, rub, fit together.

4:08 am Exotic woman in tuxedo and leotards, she is belligerant, wealthy, casting imperious glances. Other women are openly envious they wish they were exotic, dressed in tuxedo and leotards, with a drunk man pinching their backside.

Hands Expressive, they shape and define blocks of air as ideas, circle around arguments, scoop and implore, outstretched, a fist outlining parameters for discussion, locked in a clasp, abstract, linear, one moment a slab of concrete, the next a flight of feathers falling from ceiling to floor, elaborate, waving.

Can’t Get a Cup of Tea at the Railway Station. Hard Arteries He was aware that the shape of his face had gradually changed, his lips took on a disgruntled pout, his mouth drawn down at the corners. This in itself didn’t worry him.

Big Shoes Later; his brother confided that he’d not been out with the boys for over three years - he felt ineffectual a toddler cast to fill a size he couldn’t possibly fit. Why are you wearing those big shoes ? they were always asking him.

Family Resemblance Later; his parents claimed that having him there so clean shaven, with his hair washed and combed, was like having a long dead uncle drop in for a visit.

Nuance Toadies of the heart, people walking past, he was able to accurately speculate on all manner of small nuance. He discovered later that people were always looking for more than what was really there.

Going Back is never the same... Later he returned, felt a blue green intensity, penned words in a fever, outdoors, he sat and listened ablaze, his fingers tapped, his lips sipped coffee, contemplated a shaved head, heard voices, ephemeral, whisper, calling. He was falling out of love, a grey place where eye contact is avoided, looks made without connection. He was frightened by lonliness and Tuesdays, when the two of them struck at the same time, he was lost.

Early swimming experience Children can be quite cruel and forty minutes of sport can seem like forever, aged eight, examining the roll of fat with probing fingers, watching them sink into the first knuckle, I started to eat in earnest after that, fill out the crack, make my stomach smooth, not in two rounded parts.

Dream Finally the police cars only travel in pairs, they are lightly armoured V8 grunties, they have squads of six in the back with tear gas and batons, they are fighting pitched street battles with molotov throwing polynesians amid the burnt out remains of housing corp houses.

I notice the green jacket For a start I watch the absent minded and pre-occupied professor walk past, he is dressed by a committee of ex-wives who hate him. As each marriage crumbled there remained a legacy of synthetic fibre jackets and trousers, several sizes too big or too small.

Your own backyard never seems the same . Ugliness, overseas, in all forms, exciting, alluring, romantic. Ugliness here, people slowly ground down by successive political stupidity. These are the days of innocent ugliness, walking past strangers, on the brink, teetering.

Dusk It takes poets to point out things which people previously had never noticed before. Thermometers that chime clocks which measure temperature These are small instances glimpsed out of the corner of the eye, concrete objects living in a liquid peripheral fluid, wavering.

Things strike you at the oddest of moments Later; four years ago he became aware of tiny instinctive voices deep inside calling - he always kept an internal ear half tuned into them, welcomed their arrival at the oddest of moments, sitting bolt upright in bed, or alone in a room of people, unable to sustain conversation, worried about his past.

Body Language When they meet again by accident he is continuously hooking his thumbs through a belt, he leans over her, intimidating, rocking gently on balls of feet, plunges hands deep in pockets, hitches up his trousers for maximum effect and an increase in comfort.

Rivers of America Later; I asked her about the rivers of America.- which direction do they travel in? - from east to west or west to east? Is there a great divide? - a point from which all water flows? - where all water drains to?

Old Friends, New Acquaintance I’d always wondered what happened to the middle-class snobs I went to school with and on Wednesday night at the pub near the ski-fields, it’s packed, reminded me of inbred bars in hill-billy country, the faces are brown and taut from the sun on the snow they have dead fish eyes with a big game glitter, with something hard and metallic to them.

Lobby After shooting up in the hotel room they return downstairs to the lobby much more composed.They manage a game of pool.

Flipside Later; he went quite crazy, spent his time walking around the more affluent suburbs with a water pistol full of brake fluid, he was spraying derogatory things onto the bonnets of cars which were worth $35,000 or more. Later; up a narrow alley he found her serving coffee in his dreams. Later; he spent whole months inert, moving little, soaking up the passing of life like a sponge, he was happy when these opportunities presented themselves, he was, after all, glad to be working at his own pace.

I Give My Heart to You

1992

Your ex-lover is obviously a better role model for your son than me Its all about the search for someone the boy can look up to and respect - model fathers are sucessful at a distance, glimpsed for a few minutes on television or in the pages of the Womans Weekly its not a warts and all existence - he is not here to growl and tell off - hold and comfort when sick or hurting - sure I’m bitter - it would show, I can‘t disguise the fact - a sucessful long distance biological father is far superior than the flawed one close at hand - enough.

If I let my mind wander, the odd tear falls down my face. I know that last night in your room, cocooned by low cloud, headland, street light and stars, there was the sound of your adenoidal son sleeping. We found peace. My fingers rift through your short soft clean hair. I taste the taste of almond and cinnamon and sugar. I feel joy beyond relief. Songs such as no radio play will spin and reel. We kiss to keep warm, at dawn I go out into grey light, half awake, shaken, stuffed, doomed, down the tubes. Exaltant; you light a fire on the beach, you write the names of ex-lovers, ex-wives, past lives one to twelve. You read the list to the wind three times and then burn it.

Here’s to the end During the last years he became an expert on body language, the miniature of gestures, mannerisms, little things that spoke louder than words, any number of which added up to a bigger picture. Which is what we are all looking for here a snapshot - a portrait - a profile.

We will all watch each other grow old together. You never know it but I always watch you walking away - when we say goodbye we both turn but I turn around after a few yards to catch my emotional breath, I look to see if you ever do the same, catch a brief backwards glance, ever have those second thoughts or are plagued by doubt. I like you, this is assured. Its just that I know your feelings are not set - I’m waiting for that time when you turn around too - we will see each other, both smile and know that all things will be fine

Downside It took a big picture of the soul, hard earth, a window. No dreamers here she said, Scientists only deal in the the practicalities of physics. Some days it all comes down to a simple question of hormones - the position of the stars, the size and shape of the moon overhead.

Taumaranui Railway Station. I am thinking about the sliver of land that separates me from you, a crow flies distance, not too large - not too short - it is raining today - a Maori woman, aged, approaches and tells me I have the light of God in my eyes, she blesses me for the new new year, already five days old - it has been hard yakka so far - for a moment I feel close to tears but the moment dosen’t last long - forlorn with a heart full of lament - a song long unsung stirs - I feel the rhythm of grief - this is a sadness for inexplicable reasons - not to be documented here and now, but carried around invisible like a missing limb, truncated, shortened. When the rain stops it is time to say goodbye - it is heartfelt - we will never see each other again - you who have left your children behind - me on my way to find my own, the universal truth of small boys straight talk - posing questions you have no answers for.

This day starts out happy but by the end you are inconsolable It has been a great day, full of achievement and love, things getting done - everything working out fine. You shop for food, buy second hand windows, a door, some seeds, nails, a tape measure, a new element for the stove. The kids have a ball. You buy them fish and chips for lunch, an endless supply of lollies, potato chips, milk shakes all afternoon. They play happily in the park, you push them on the swings, help the little one up and down on the jungle gym, let them jump all over you for ages. The car drives wonderfully, like a greased pig. It uses a lot of gas but you don’t mind because there is no sign of the radiator overheating on the hills. You fly. As dusk falls you head home. A full moon pops up over a hill around a corner - there is little traffic. The surf on the beaches is hypnotic, a warm spring night, the car smells of salt air and orange peel. You stop at a deserted beach and quickly collect a heap of dry driftwood. You light a fire, fry sausages and eggs, smother them in tomato sauce, slap between slices of white bread. They taste the best. You hold hands happy, stupidly invincible. Later you are back in the car driving, the kids stretch out, you sing song after song in beautiful harmony, they quietly fall asleep. You take little sips of fine whiskey, smoke a pipe of good dak. A while later up the road you pull over next to a flowering pohutukawa tree, let your mate mimi in the shadow of the moon.

This day shows no sign of getting any better It starts full of promise - this is going to be alright you think but by mid afternoon there is that familiar feeling - some may call it angst - others may call it desperation - you are in a strange town, friendless - empty bellied you have five hours to kill before the bus arrives - the only open toilet is blocked, backed up, overflowing - you have matches but no cigarettes - you have thoughts but none of them are any good - they crowd and jostle, crowd and jostle, crowd and jostle... Steady you say to yourself, steady on here, you may be in trouble but not know the full extent of your own worries - remember he who laughs now does not know the bad news.

Notes From 1966 1990 First the Bad News

Back in 1966, 23672 people worked for the Railways, some travelled back and forth on the Aranui, others in one of 625 engines of various motive power. Yearly during nearly half a million passenger miles, 15 people were killed at level crossings, another three during shunting accidents.

Cars and Trolley Buses

Two and a half people per motor vehicle. 26551 trailer registrations, 1906 convictions for failure to yield right of way. Of the 265 buses in Wellington, 144 of them run off the trolley wires.

Babies

60188 births, 589 sets of twins, 5 sets of triplets. Many of my friends are in these figures but they do not know it yet. The 100 marriage guidance counsellors vie with the 246 registered opticians. I notice 18 Greeks arrive on assisted passage.

I get here

There were no days of frost in Wellington. There were 22929 registered marriages, 3660 Officiating Ministers - 48 of them were from the Ringatau Church. A DC-8 touches down after a flight from Sydney. My first meal in New Zealand? - a breakfast of bacon and eggs. I lick the plate clean. This is surely the land of milk and honey.

Anxiety

11945 people register at mental hospitals - most are there for anxiety reasons. Near Mangakino one morning, I discover a strange new fungus that looks like a see-through soccer ball. I am afraid to walk past it and run home crying. Such is the power of the strange fungus upon the impressionable young mind.

Power gets generated

On ANZAC Day, 11 Boer War veterans line up. At Social Welfare for the whole year there are 133 registrations for the dole, which in those days was worth $23.50 per week. One day my dad takes me through a turbine room at a power station. The air hums. My hair stands on end.

First mention of Drugs

482000 watch television in 60% of homes. We watch the Commonwealth Games highlights from Jamaica, flown back to New Zealand by fast jet. My family moves to Tatanui, 200,000 vote for National Prohibition, nobody gets busted for LSD.

Milk

We lived next to a dairy factory that made powdered milk and casein. Getting the daily milk is one of my chores, it meant a quart billy and climbing a fence over to where a tanker driver fills my container from a large vat. Milk tastes different, I haven’t started smoking yet.

Mystical Interlude

On June the sixth I carefully write the date at the top of an open page in my exercise book. It reads 6/6/66. I feel like I have discovered one of the secrets of the ages. I will not feel like this again until well into the late seventies.

For You, Stan

Keith Holyoake orders the artillery advisors down from the Vietnamese highlands. The American president visits and there are protests. Do the Springboks tour? I think so. Does Stan Meads play? - if so in what position and for which province? Rugby is big in 1966, even before all the marketing.

We get Contemporary

Twenty five years later in Dunedin I often found myself telling friends from up north that Port Chalmers feels like 1966. Our two-stroke garden excavator is named after a local artist - Mr Ralph Rotary. When later I tell him about this he laughs but I notice that I am the one who is always buying the beer...

Acrynoms of rock - a work continually in progress. 1994 OSRARP Old School Rock and Roll Promoter. Clad in leather jacket the OSRARP proves there is no evolutionary progress in Rock. Neccessary accoutrements are FMB (full metal briefcase), cell phone. All OSRARP are chauvanists of the worst order. They have no grasp of historical inevitability or dialectical materialism. In fact no analysis at all. Favourite comment....AMAFU (all musicians are fucking useless). IWGO It will go off The comforting cry of the OSRARP before the gig to bouy up others involved who are experiencing severe second thoughts or misgivings. Pre-Hype. The Samoans have a saying .. when an OSRARP says IWGO, it generally won’t. NZIASPS New Zealand - Its a small place syndrome Band on third tour of the country see the same people coming to gigs in every centre. All know the sister of the bass player. All say YWG (“you were great”). NBIS Now based in Sydney Where you go to hide your alcohol or drug addiction from the New Zealand media. Where you go when you’ve burnt all your bridges in New Zealand. Where you go to hang out because of the NZIASPS. YGTBYAITPF You Got to Bust your Ass in the Provinces First. Before what? Busting your ass in the 6 major centres thats what. One traditional OS approach to rock career. Make your fuckups in Wanganui or Oamaru on a Tuesday night rather than in a crowded Gluepot on a Friday. Learn to Grin and Bear it Syndrome (LTGABIS). HWGASL Have we got a set list? Sure you have. You either have a copy of every gig ever played, listing every song, ready to file for performance royalties with the Assholes or you have just the one set list because you have no time to write new material and have been playing the same songs for the last 9 months in the same order 5 nights out of seven. ITCGIT... If they could get it together... Yeah. Sure. Be as big as fuckin’ Dance Exponents. Sell as many records in the US as the Mutton Birds. Yeah. Sure. IHCFASLU If he can find a stable line up. Temperamental asshole/primadonna/besot. GTPLSR (Goes through people like snot rags). GACITSBV Get Annie Crummer in to sing backing vocals On anything. Anywhere. Anytime.

BTMDTIHCOC Been through more drummers than I’ve had cups of coffee. I don’t know why this is but drummers seem the most expendable and/or vulnerable. Yet they are traditionally the rock animals of any band. This preference for the OSLS (Old School Life Style) can at times cause conflicts with NSLS (New School Life Style) or vice-versa. Also known as the KLS (King Loser Syndrome). SBITNZMA

Still Believes in the NZ Music Awards Fool. Those shoddy pieces of $4.95 plastic and cheap glitter are’nt worth the cookie cutter they get mass-produced out on. (Same with a gold cassette!). Supposedly the crowning pinacle for your achievements to the NZ music Industry (sic) the corrupt, nepotistic fucks that sit on the selection and the award panels hardly ever get it right in any catagory. No justice here. Definatly OS.

IMD

Irreconcilable Musical Differences. This means almost anything. I hate your guts. You play guitar for shit. You never let me sing the songs I write. Your fuckin socks smell in the van and you snore like a stuck pig. I’m better off in a solo career. I’m better off in a VU tribute band or playing in the orchestra for Jesus Christ Superstar.

TSIOONA

This song is off our new Album. Self explanatory. To be repeated three or four times a gig, often with an endearing combination of coy arrogance.

TNSIONS

This next song is our new single. See above.

TNSIONSIWBITSNW

This next song is our new single, it will be in the shops next week. Qualifying amendment on the previous two. Musician is lying. Nothing comes out next week. Best you can hope for is later this year. Hopefully before Christmas. Maybe.

CYPSMSTTDF

Can you put some more snare through the drum fill? Overpowered amps? Stage stretches the length of Western Springs? Can’t hear the singer/guitarist/bass? Fuck them all. Just as long as you can hear your own snare, mate, that’s all you need.

CYPSMGTTFB

Can you put some more guitar through the fold back? Underpowered stage amp? Incredibly loud bass rig? Drummer hitting the cymbals all the time? Losing hearing? All of the above?

SLTK

Sounds like Three Kilohertz Pre-gig equalisation chant. Sometimes adapted to SLTPTKM (sounds like three point two k man). The frequency which seems to most grate the teeth, cause pain in the frontal lobes and bleeding from the ears. Ability to recreate this is considered major kudos by sound engineers.

TTOTTTTOTTCC

Testing-testing-one-two-three-testing-testing-one-two-three-checkcheck. Another popular pre-gig chant - mostly for foldback testing. Why do sound engineers say this? There is no song yet written with this lyric. Why don’t they say baby-baby-gas-funkin-station-love-my-leather-jacket-bad-politicsbaby jerusalem-jerusalem ad infinitum?.

KWICSSDM?

Know where I can score some dak man? Day anytime of tour. Nelson/Whakatane/Christchurch. Approaching total strangers in public bar or the support band. Driving around in the dark from one unknown address to another. Getting lost in the suburbs. US (Ugly scenes).

SSS

Screaming Skull Syndrome Day 11 of tour. No dak in sight. No posters up in Wellington. Nobody gives a fuck about your new single. Nine people at the gig. Amp blows up. You all hate each other. Next morning the van breaks down.

ICSITS

Indie cult status in the States You were once too weird for New Zealanders. Not too weird for a significant niche of kiwiophiles in America. They love your quirky jandals. One day you will wake up and recognise yourself for what you have become, an obnoxious, pompus middle aged media slut working for the Herald. Remember the maxim - WWOEQBC

WWOEQBC

What was once experimental quickly becomes conventional. Mutton chops and sideboards are back man! Being an asshole is cool! Lets hear it for the commodification of rock! Wear that uniform of the Grunge revolution!

HDIMABOOT?

How do I make a buck out of this? Give it a name. Give it a fashion flow on. Sell it to teenagers unable to think for themselves. In the sixties it was psychedelia, seventies, call it reggae, eighties - new wave, nineties, grunge.

YHGTGAITW

You have got to go about it this way. BYAITP. OSRARE. PWDD (Play with Dave Dobbyn). DLAF (Drink like a fish). Be a performing dog. Bark to order. NBIS.

IWLT

It works like this. Similar to above. Sign to a multinational. Be a “star” in your own country. Fame but no money (not much). Sign to an indie. Be an “unknown” in your own country. Some money (not much). ICSITS. Sign to a US major. Tour your ass. Break Up. Forget everything you ever learnt the hard way. End up owing the major label three albums or $110,000 (US).