Between Contracts

The weeks constrict, pythons around my ribs, under which the turbid valves of the heart pump on with blind certainty. Dreams of flapping wings outside windows. A nest of telephone calls, letters, deposits, routines in which I can submerge peacefully and integrate with process, a limbed machine conferring golden fries, cigarettes, tins of ointment. MoneyContinue reading “Between Contracts”


There was a commotion outside the window. A million people arrived overnight and moved swiftly to assemble petrol stations, delicatessens and strip joints. Signs point everywhere you cannot go. I think of the past to hold myself down. There are more products than you can imagine. Throttled streets lined with plates of black ice. IContinue reading “Economics”

Commemoration of the Comet Hyakatuke

  The front page notes a report of a comet and how it came darting out of the void, a small silvery fish in dark waters. It zooms over southern horizons. Named for its first witness, a Japanese amateur, he must have combed the night relentlessly to net his prize. It carries its speed againstContinue reading “Commemoration of the Comet Hyakatuke”


  She was shifting form, encircling and seamless, swirling from moment to moment without apparent sense, with sudden violence and traitorous appetites, with knowing persistence, with perpetual conviction. He was locked within a severe carapace, contained by ancient heat, never acknowledging her lightness, nor her storms that could last for nights and nights, an urgentContinue reading “Congress”

48° 14.5’ S, 168° 18.76’ E

(Person Overboard, 70 kilometres South of Stewart Island, New Zealand, 24 January 2004) It’s not a sea. It’s ocean. Brood black skies and so cold it burns. Vo Minh Que, 22 months of ship time, no kid, picked up by the whipping line and tossed like a doll into four metre swells from a floatingContinue reading “48° 14.5’ S, 168° 18.76’ E”

Port Chalmers

Port, Dogtown, Koputai, names good and ill, you look outward to oceans, waiting for the world. Cruise liners and log boats snuggle your wharves. A thousand trunks of Pinus Radiata are matchsticks piled before your crow’s nest lookout, the channel a blue stripe down ruffled green fur. Ships glide through the throat of the harbour,Continue reading “Port Chalmers”