TROUT   [ 2 ]

  no auckland

Stumble Gait & No Hope
& Coloured Shirt their mate
dance in a warm street
dragging their feet,
they LAUGH & drink
of red-light fire
their red-thought of Locked Door
& Fast Car
& Broken Bottle
blind from the concrete wharves
wherein the sad tail-light
the world sings.
& desperate peaks the three assail
& sleep in the lonely groves
on Home Street -
I swore i'd leave.

—Brian Potiki
   © 1997