It’s a North East Valley specialty –
attenuated streets, filaments
extruded steeply up from North Road,
streets you could hardly turn a dog
around in – not a large dog anyway –
and scarfie flats with names and legends
passed round from pissup to pissup …
and where an early morning piddle
ended with a broken key, and me
clambering out the bathroom window,
nightie rucked up to my armpits
wishing I’d worn a decent pair of knickers
as the sun came up and the neighbours
came home –
but that’s another story.
Because today is National Poetry Day in New Zealand, Tuesday Poets have been asked to post a poem with New Zealand as the theme. This poem is a true story, the events of which took place at my sister-in-law’s house in Dunedin, many years ago. It was first published in Under Flagstaff: An Anthology of Dunedin Poetry. As it’s Nicky’s birthday in a couple of days, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up.
Happy birthday Nicky!
To see what other Tuesday Poets has on offer for National Poetry Day, visit the Tuesday Poem blog!