New verse by Dunedin writer Victor Billot. The Hierarchy Invisible homeless The dead Care worker Solo mother (bad suburb) Loan shark Bottom feeder Dolt Poet Casual employee PhD in Fine Arts Intern Experimental rodent Minion Serf Serf (creative industries) Mid-career journalist Ten years to go and holding on desperately “Between jobs” Climate scientist Aspirational … Read more
New verse by West Auckland writer Michael Steven. Neilson Street Nearly always it is still dark when he threads the chain of the roller door through his hands, and as that steel door shudders and shrieks as it rolls up, he will most certainly be wearing his red waist-cut woollen Swanndri, the … Read more
New verse by Australian writer Eloise Grills. Independent woman I am an independent woman I pay for all my groceries Even for the nuts which I could Theoretically put through as Less expensive nuts At the self-checkout I pay the prescribed price I do not Need a man It’s easy like when … Read more
New poetry – actually, she sent it in on Thursday, and we have rushed it to the head of the queue in these dry days of summer – by Hawkes Bay writer Marty Smith. To the trees of summer If we could start the poem again, walking backwards in a waterlogged sky which refuses … Read more
New verse by Canadian New Zealand writer Michael Gould. They called it love I saw the man I thought I loved three times in two days, but after that we didn’t have much to say we kissed, though our eyes didn’t meet and smiled, but a sense of denial was already spelling defeat. Was … Read more
We conclude our week-long series on New Zealand poetry with the winning poem of the 2017 national schools poetry award: ‘Dampening’, by Wellington High School Year 12 student Zora Patrick. Dampening Playing dead in the seeming shallows a man floats face down estranged from the crying children and bikini grandmas. He looks … Read more
New verse by Christchurch poet Jeffrey Paparoa Holman. Highway 61 (Old) So by accident I found the road that gave you song, by need alone I drove the miles where Abraham, the way you tell it, heard God say, “Go kill your son.” I slid a CD in the player. I turned the … Read more
New verse – he wrote it on Wednesday, actually – by Wellington writer Bill Manhire. Last words It’s nice out there, says the dying man. Yes, says the doctor, not too bad at all. Bill Manhire, 2017 The Spinoff Review of Books is brought to you by Unity Books.
New verse, taken from the recently published collection of New Zealand political poems, by Dunedin writer Peter Olds. Boxing Day Young people shouldn’t have to work in supermarkets on Boxing Day. No young person under the age of 35 should have to work during summer holidays. The owners of supermarkets, lounging on … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer James Brown. Flying Fuck We spend too much time doing things for people who don’t give a flying fuck about us. What is a flying fuck anyway? Is that line earning its place? It could probably be cut. James Brown, 2017 The Spinoff Review of Books … Read more
New verse by Sophie van Waardenberg. unhatched egg/two girls at easter we are helping to cut down the trees they say. we know what the hills will look like when we have finished. they will have burn scars like we have on our wrists from clumsiness, from baking. the dog tastes a hundred empty … Read more
To conclude our week-long series on Greymouth writer Peter Hooper: two poems by his former student Jeffrey Paparoa Holman, from his new collection of verse, Blood Ties. Poem for John Pule: the last days of Peter Hooper Stoned on Waiheke on Pule’s grass that was a surprise: “Well, yes and no, Jeff, … Read more
New verse by poet Michael Hall. Tip Top Bread The sound that a loaf of bread makes when it hits the supermarket floor – is the sound of a heart breaking. No one really hears it, though a few nearby in the aisle might see the person picking, to stoop it up. Then trying to … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Chris Tse. Selfie with landscape Let’s unpick what you think you know about me—what I’ve revealed, what I’ve left at the door of my favourite wolf, just for him to make eye contact the next time we pass in the street. Those stories all had emergency exits, just like … Read more
New verse by Australian writer Catherine Vidler. the ghost held special significance for the ghost at St. Bathans the ghost held me down the ghost held me in position the ghost held up a glowing torch the ghost held its ground the ghost held a darker picture the ghost held … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Nick Ascroft. This Poem Is Guaranteed to Awaken a Coma Victim Is someone you love in a coma? A family member perhaps. Perhaps a pet. Perhaps you yourself are in a coma. Perhaps someone is reading this to you in the hopes of awakening you. If … Read more
A translation of good old Catallus (c84-54BC) by Claudia Jardine. Introductory remarks by Claudia Jardine: A lot of New Zealand writers have had a go at Catullus [in Anna Jackson’s I, Clodia and Other Portraits, quite literally]. He holds a special place in the heart for most Latin students, being the usual introduction to Latin love … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Nick Ascroft. [Editorial note: A panel of experts refute the poem is about dumplings.] Dumplings Throw him out like dough on a flour-dusted table, put your wrists into it, your back – hh – sacrum, hips, get a knee up, weight the thick of your femur from … Read more
New verse by Catherine Vidler, inspired by dear old Saucepan, a character from the Enid Blyton series The Faraway Tree. Saucepan To any of us he is still Old Saucepan. Dear everybody, he is still. He could stay because he says yesterday. Can he put things right? Will you come? … Read more
New verse by Wellington poet Claudia Jardine, who previously thrilled and disturbed Spinoff readers with her poem ‘My Iron Cervix.’ Ode to Goon So there’s me, sprawled across the bed eating bits of biscuit like Bacchus, and you, half out of a suit, looking at me as if I’m street-art you scraped off a wall … Read more
Don’t biff it and don’t burn me either I was thinking About how French women In the magazines Obey the law of decades When it comes to their hair Ascending the matron ladder And shutting their witch down With knee length hems. I said I’ve gone normal With the tree this year son Lies! I … Read more
HATE Some people are meant to be forgiven and others are meant to be hated forever….. ………………………………………………………. ………………………………………………………. I don’t think it’s right to hate people It’s just that I don’t care To wake each day in a snakeskin negligee and light myself on fire with such ethical behaviours Once………………I tried to give … Read more
abide more tritone idle mode because of sin the artisan cannot exact immaculate the transept rose in damask steel cannot restore with faithfulness the hawthorn’s point to Amor’s nose it vanishes like God inside … Read more