POETRY – WIDE READING RESPONSE
To the girl who stood beside me at
the checkout counter of Whitcoulls
bookstore in Hamilton on Tuesday
For ten seconds I fell
in love with you.
The first second we met.
You were buying recipes.
The second second we turned,
Taking pieces of each other out of our eyes.
The third second we held each other gently.
Your skin was a small kitten playing with a curtain.
The fourth second we kissed.
Front gates clicked against our fence.
In the fifth second we married.
Your dress was made of Nikau palm.
The sixth second we built a house beside a lake
It was never tidy and the grass was up to our knees.
The seventh second we argued:
About toothpaste and poetry
and who would put out the rubbish.
The eighth second we grew fat and happy
and laid on the ground after eating.
Your stomach wriggled with a round child.
In the ninth second we were old in the same garden
of the same house by the same lake in the same love.
The tenth second we said goodbye.
Your hand slipped away from mine but
seemed to me like something I could feel.
We passed again beside each other without turning
As though we had somehow only met at the checkout
counter of Whitcoulls bookstore in Hamilton
on a faintly blue September Tuesday.
First published in The Listener, 6 July 2002.
© Glenn Colquhoun.
To a woman who fainted recently at a poetry reading
A blood pressure of ninety millimetres of mercury is normally required to adequately
perfuse the central nervous system. If the head is lowered, however, the pressure
needed to maintain consciousness is considerably lower. Of course if one has severed
a major artery or torn it lengthwise like a weak seam in the lining of a jacket then
poetry should not be blamed and, in fact, may become entirely appropriate.
It is wise to consider hypoglycaemia as a contributing factor. I have heard that a
barley sugar placed per rectum in obtunded patients with a precipitously low serum
glucose may at times mean the difference between them dying and never eating barley
sugar again.
Simple dehydration, overheating or a sudden shock can also be associated with
fainting. For this last reason poetry should not be left lying around especially if it is
graphic in nature, with swear words in it like ‘bugger’ or ‘bastard’ or ‘shit’. Lines
such as ‘She used to love me but now I am a crumb in the biscuit tin of life’ can
induce vomiting. ‘She used to love me / My heart is the sound of oysters opening at
low tide’ can also be counted on to take the breath away.
Micturation syncope is a syndrome in which men who increase their intra-abdominal
pressure at the moment of urination can impair their venous return, cardiac output and
subsequently faint, however this cause will usually be obvious from the history and
immediate setting. Individuals suffering in this manner can sometimes be confused
with those who have drunk too much then pissed themselves before collapsing.
Despite a strong link between alcohol and poetry this scenario seems unlikely to be
the case in your situation and so it only remains for me to write you the following
prescription – four black wheels swallowed whole like pills; one siren, the blade of a
sharp knife; three sheets, as crisp as biting apples, two flashing lights striking matches
in the wind – and in this small ambulance send you, like flowers, straight to hospital.
A Walk with Your Father
Hinemoana Baker
Before you do anything else, check your lungs.
Are they the right size for you, are you the right size for
them?
Are they nice and snug against your ribs and spine?
Don’t worry if they’re a bit big for you, you’ll grow into
them.
They must be full, however; you don’t want them empty.
You have a long way to go.
Put your hand inside your mouth and make sure
everything’s in its place, check that all the pipes and hoses
leading from your lungs into your mouth are in position and
in good nick.
You don’t want any leaks or sudden explosions
this is your air we’re talking about.
Close your mouth securely around this apparatus.
Next check your weight. If you are too heavy
or too light you won’t succeed. By the way
there’s no need to take a whole lot of extras with you.
Some people strap expensive knives to their legs and wear
protective gloves.
There’s no real need for any of this. An ordinary old sharp
knife
from the kitchen drawer will do, and just your bare hands.
You may need to signal to each other.
Now pay some attention to your skin.
It should feel secure and warm
and at the same time allow you room to move freely.
There are any number of colours available nowadays
they all do pretty much the same job.
Your feet, are they the right size?
If they’re too large they’ll be a hindrance
too small and you will tire quickly.
You’re probably looking at feet about the same size as his.
Your eyes - spit in them. It keeps everything clear.
That step you’re about to take
will have to be much larger than you’re used to.
Don’t forget to move forwards, not backwards.
Keep your hand on your mouth so everything stays in place
when you break the surface. Mihi to Tangaroa.
Mihi to Hinemoana.
You are about to experience the most extraordinary things dangers that turn out to be perfectly safe.
He'll point these things out as you pass.
Now get in
under there. Immerse yourself.
Do it now, go.
He'll be right behind you.