New verse by west Auckland writer Paula Green, who was awarded the Prime Minister’s award for poetry this week and pockets $60,000. The New York Public Library Josephine stands outside The New York Public Library like a scarecrow and gapes at the Grecian urns, the guardian lions glaring from plinths. Really, she is … Read more
Two new spoons poems by Dunedin writer Liz Breslin. when life gives you spoons when life gives you spoons, measure sugar, stir the juice when life gives you spoons, fix tyres when life gives you spoons, play Kadabra, stare them down when life gives you spoons, grab them off a plane when life … Read more
New big bad wolf verse by Dunedin writer Emma Neale. The Belt How could they ever love anyone else after what he had done? Listened to that woman whose voice graunched like a spoon that tries to drag the pattern off the plate when even the broth scrapings are gone. Took … Read more
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 Otago writer Liz Breslin. No one in my poem is on p They’re all on p in Timaru except the student buying camel coat fabric and the fag-waving granny saying what a to do and the Community House security dude arms folded, clipboard primed and plastic. They’re all on p … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Freya Daly Sadgrove. STIHL power equipment I wanna be a tool for you like I specifically wanna be your STIHL chainsaw I want you dad-aged and swearing by me cos I do such a good job and I last exactly a lifetime— I want you to be careful about … Read more
New verse by writer and singer, Dominic Hoey. Toast I’d like to make a toast to the sound man for making me louder than my detractors to the bar tenders, those unsung heroes of hospo, serving up sweet amnesia to the hecklers, the physical manifestation of the voices in my head, shut -the fuck- … Read more
New verse by writer Amanda Kennedy. Write about your father’s father At school, the task today is write about your father’s father. You find it slightly hard to breathe as people at your table tell their stories I mean, if you have ever read School Journals, You will know that grandads aren’t supposed to … Read more
New verse by Auckland writer Amanda Kennedy. When Lorelai broke the curtain rail I was sitting in the kitchen talking to my sister When Lorelai broke the curtain rail. She ran in to announce her crime, trailed off behind her mother to the scene awaiting sentencing, her husky little voice going sorry, sorry, … Read more
New verse by Jungian therapist and writer Michael Harlow. The late news This little boy with his new number-one haircut, his heart full of surprise, clutching his end-of-the-year report card to his chest, crossing High Street for the last time—without looking both ways His black and white dog, her snappy tail on fast forward … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer Jenny Bornholdt Time We woke to spring nuzzling at the window. Winter’s passed, like last night’s hail in the gin. Frozen puddle in the freezer a reminder; like our son’s placenta, still there after eleven years— us frozen by indecision, which tree and where? Sons grown to men. One … 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 Riwaka writer Talia Marshall. My thoughts on the end of love and caravans this Friday At first love is the caravan and you are inside it playing cards and the gas lamp is burning and everyone inside the caravan is happy and unbearable Then you only go … 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 from Geraldine writer John Keast. High Tea A high ceiling in spring, white with a filigree border and genteel conversation floats over earl grey and the waitress’s apron rises and falls with her light step; tea and cakes, spilling cream, a man with a silly hat and ill-fitting hand-knit jersey trying to impress … Read more
New verse by Nelson writer Sarah Wilson. Dear Dominique “I was having sex with my girlfriend when she started her period. I dumped that bitch immediately.” – tweet Dear nameless dummy on Twitter: You’re the reason my daughter cried funeral tears when she started her period. The sudden grief all young girls feel after the … Read more
New verse by Auckland poet Tusiata Avia. Feagaiga/ Covenant I tell my brother about the boy at school I make him tickle my back and every time he stops I tell him about the boy at school who can do it The Best In … Read more
New verse by Wellington writer (and winner of the 2016 Ockham New Zealand national book award for best first book of poetry) Chris Tse. Chris Tse and His Imaginary Band We were brighter when the world didn’t know about us or our rock n’ roll dreams. Now we dress in black, but we’re not … 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
New verse by Bill Nelson of Wellington. Someone needs to take control You should be planting autumn crops! The calendar says every morning from under its flimsy door magnets. Seed your onions! Mound your potatoes! In the real world, wild and disowned, heirloom tomatoes infiltrate silver beet. A patch of rocket, perhaps self-seeded, elbows a … 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