new zealand poems: on taking a shower in the glass box by lake wakatipu

everyone wants their picture taken

while looking at something magnificent.

My mother cries out in startlement

And we all jump: “oh, look at the birds,”

Albatross on their silent wings against

A grey cliff. Everything lives on top of

Everything—like children clamoring

for a front seat at the sun, like dads

on a wine tour, like anyone scrambling

to make sense of this life. It is uncomfortable

not knowing where the top of the mountain is,

snowcapped and glassy above the clouds,

or is it another hill, stubbled with growing things,

surmountable. This strong current carves itself

down, leaving impressions, I am

struggling not to say depression,

the way these trees struggle

quietly and constantly within the vines

swelling with sun. i do not need much.

A place to take off my jeans

And a light to read by.

I long for the naked gesture of the toki.

From her. From myself. Back home.

But surviving is a simple thing.

It continues in pain,  like a duck

With a split beak, like a sheep

Limping up a hill, like a day

Hour by hour.

And so what if I am angry that everyone

Wants to be seen as contemplating

Vastness? Hera Lindsay Bird slaps me

Says, so what if it is ugly to hate?

It is yours and I say it is beautiful,

Like our patience laying itself down

Behind the mountains in a bed of gold and blue.

I do not need much, I think.

I spend little and often go

Without food if I cannot get it free.

Id rather walk 5 miles lost

In a city than grab a taxi.

Id rather love than be indignant

About what I deserve.

But I want so much.

I want the world

In a distance I can walk in my lifetime.

I want sun breaking through clouds

When necessary, and wind ringing

Everything around, and rain on my face

And across the fields, purple and moving.

I want to always remember

The wonder of waking up

And my heart strangely beating,

The cold outside of dawn’s mist

Clinging to the lake, and the world beyond that

Bustling about, but making itself huge and beautiful

Like the love of your life in streetclothes belting her favorite song on the highway on her way to the love chapel in vegas with you.