Writing in Whangarei

a pub in Kaitaia on Anzac Day

by Vaughan Gunson

a space with more room
than what’s needed
pushes back
the hazy night crowd, watching
the play
at the pool table.

the young sailors
showing-off,
wearing ridiculously white
square collar shirts, low-cut
revealing tufts of hair
on their backs.

they look
like guys I went to school with,
not men
standing on a ship
in the Dardanelles.

then there’s the boys
in Wu-Tang jackets
wondering what the fuck
I’m doing here.

the woman in the yellow jersey
with the fluffy neck
sinks the black
in a corner pocket,
there’s few claps of applause.

her opponent,
a grey bearded gentleman in shorts
goes over to her, they embrace
& kiss each other
on the cheek.

everyone who’s been watching
turns to talk
to someone else.

I raise my glass
to the Wu-Tang boys

who smile back.

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One response

  1. Yeah, Vaughan, like this one a lot. It is clearly the companion piece to “beautiful is…” right? I think you should line those two up side-by-side. Poetry of place…

    July 18, 2011 at 9:15 am

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