Vigil
How soft the centre of the island is
Like the knife will always come out sticky
With uncooked batter and the clingy green icing
Of the grass
Why is it spread so thick here
Over the lurid triangular tombs?
The car in front of me hits a road cone
And I wish that bright alert orange would flip back
From the road calling for more caution
But nothing is set and we sponge around
Every power line I see on the way is erect
From missing Jesus and the wires hold no one
Together except the sound,
someone is singing
But of course I can't hear her and it smells like the volcano
I leave behind
There is a lake in the middle of the island, in the middle of the cake
But I take the wrong route like a dog without a nose
Somewhere a timer is going off and
I will never understand why Ohakune cares
So much for carrots when out in space
The real war is happening, this is what my cousin
Tells me and I'm so grateful to her
And the way my family keeps arriving in waves
Maybe this vast lake I am skirting is just a puddle
Or a coin in the map of my hand
Where ever I am the fish are swimming so much further than my fingers
I want to ask them to take my last scraps of grace to the sea
When I was small cake meant everything to me
But I lost my tooth for it and now the sight of it is too much
The sight of everything is too much
My friend, I know nothing has a truth smell
And the world's onion is pretending to be a stone


i am glad ohakune and the carrots get a mention here and i got an answer for you x about that! It is true they are sweeter than cake (but not this poem)! arohanui x