Saturday, August 11, 2007


since she's left my hair's gone manky
here in Christchurch everybody's angry
through the rain whipped window I spy a hearst
avon is just nova in reverse

Sunday, March 25, 2007


Paul keeps the black dog chained in the back of the van. Just past Johnsonville, North bound on State Highway 1, the dog gets loose and Paul has the dizzying sensation that he’s driving down a long dark tunnel. His tongue tastes metal and he sees the motorway as if he was peering down the wrong end of a telescope. Outside the speeding trees and the slow moving hills—tricks of parallax—he senses the film between worlds.

Saturday, February 10, 2007


When Ruth reads The Truth

she find her name

on the couch in the lounge

away from centres

real or imagined

the world moves

just a little

as the journos

find the next pocket

the next dark nook

or corner. When something

happens it happens

just long enough to be noted

before it moves closer

to centres (real, imagined)

closer to critical masses.

Midnight seeks

filters, sifts

a chora for the chorals

recognition stops

any confusion between

open source distributions

& talking to yourself

in the dark

pretending that you're not

what you haven't yet got

namely; audience.

How to move from

provisional, eclectic


issues without a foci

giveaway bonus tracks

complementary copies

loose connections

haphazard lines or

the mere suggestion

Of a silloutte or outline?

Truth wants the truth channel

a clearing of space

a field to call our own

attention to particular



theatrical homelands.

Truth wants cash to broadcast

a particular point of view

an objective

a singular statement

(even if looped)

rather than a manifesto

Don't dream it, play it

With enough to buy a day in the park

select, edit

avoid feeling

that feeling's the thing

by which they'll measure

the value of the queen

embrace technique

don leotards

comrade fatigues

when asked if


if pushed

buy airline tickets

there's no going back

no back to go to

other than the casting

of hoops

the interminable foraging

of materials

Thursday, February 08, 2007


Tonight Ruth’s a builder
because builders are allowed
to make mistakes

Paul’s a bricoleur
he’s good with his hands

Ryan charts a course
lays solid lines
for them to follow

together they mix the elements
that make the room burn nova


Music makes nothing happen. The incidental
tumbled cluster of morning, the half moon
over the hill, Ruth & Paul

packing for Sydney after Sandwiches
& the BDO. Is the music a summation
not quite a diary or direct account

but the plotting of a line of motion:
planned flights, 5 year plans
manifestos for parties

yet to be thrown? Tone:
staccato, falsetto. Immediate,
honest; veiled, masked.

What next? Play.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006


in the web
the speaking place
place where the lips hear
place where the lips speak
moving against the black
the red against the black
the pouring out
the pouring
of speech in speaking
thought in thinking
all those voices
of those promises
of going back home
going back to the roots
finding the nymphs
in the woods rivers springs
telling their truths to you
in the mesh of the leaves
the listening place
place where the nymphs speak
place where the hunters sleep
dreaming of a word to fill
original nothingness
pouring out
a missed space
or step
the wonder of breath
silence of her washing
amber light
of spring water running
over areola
shock of magenta hair
nymph aureole
her names are only your names
taken from the babbling of brooks
you have tried to pin the flow
and the pouring of her song
do you doubt
her music
the origin of her song?
what you will
cannot remember
the limit of her dance
as she spins
in the slow running water
only her mother’s daughter
hunter only your words to fill
the spaces in your dreams
the end never comes
comes to a never end
loops back
an 8 in the mirror
mirroring her song
and back
to the place of the flowing
if there’s a song to sing
she’ll take it
she’ll want it
she’ll keep it
you want to step out of the song
leave the wood
but she’s still in the water
her back to you
to you her back
is the page
palimpsests faits chair
of the tomorrow’s song
the other night’s return
again to the moment
she turns and kills

Saturday, December 09, 2006



i'll show you who is queen--i'll


Sunday, November 19, 2006


This morning on Active a bloody catalogue of break bands playing somewhere at only $150 a pop. Including Minuit. At $150 a pop.


The NZ Music Awards are proudly brought to you by Tourism NZ. In the selecting the winners the judges listened to the CDs a couple of times. But we are a brand; we need brand champions and iconic easy-to-understand brand figureheads. In order to penetrate overseas markets a band needs a brand identity that reflects our country. For that reason all of the finalists are proven unit shifters with clear, recognisable local accents. The judges are delighted that all finalists reflect NZ's core brand values . We award artist excellence with an eye on the demographics. French, you say? Nelson? We can't even tell where they come from. It could be anywhere or nowhere and how can that be a good thing?