Wednesday, April 20, 2011

visual poem - longing for a breeze

You'll have to indulge me a little bit - this poem is just my emotional response to the exhibition rather than a critique of it.

longing for a breeze

the floor was polished
and clacked
with footfall and they lay
quietly disemboweled,
and were viewed.
a card explained: revered once, then dis
repair, now look
their mauri is strong. so they
say breezelessly.

A whare tūpuna
will say what to that?

Pita Sharple's taiaha watches
through glass.

They are alone at night.

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