Monday, January 10, 2011

Wellington 2011 -11/01/2011


not that big of a city
for near-four years
of absence
to have erased all our traces

memory lane walks
by that same bar
still there just up those stairs
we met back to the table
both carrying jugs
mixed up
‘cause jugs
are called pots or pots are called handles or handles are called
something else
couldn’t drink that much
between two of us
tables away we watched kids
working down those beer bongs
that are here called something else
never thought of inviting ourselves
to join them
share our too-much-beer

because they looked silly to us

up on those hills
are the city’s botanic gardens
the ones where I fell asleep in her lap
conked out after eating only junk food
for two days
because hell with it I’m on holidays
she had had the good sense
not to try and stop me
and didn’t mind
giving me the lap to lie in

off Cuba Street
there yeah that’s it the same bookstore
I bought PJ O Rourke’s
Republican Party Reptile
perfect find at the time
on the coach I read her passages from it
laughed like drains
annoyed the crap
out of other passengers
didn’t care

because they looked silly to us too

off Lambton Quay
that’s the shop where she got me this jumper
same one I’m wearing now
near the servo near that's near the museum with the sign
‘fancy a quickie?’
I took that photo that became that joke
when that question was asked
all occasions subsequent
I still have the photo, of course


that’s the bakery with the girl
she tried to sell us
sucks hot cross buns for sex dollars sexty
thought that chuck was making fun of me
and me strawl
but no that was the price
it was eyes watering not to laugh
but we didn’t

because we would have looked silly to her

but we didn’t
could not have had
such a saccharine sweet trip
but this is how this place remembers it

those petty nothing fights I know we had
silly enough to forget
have been

guess that’s a good thing

not that big of a city
isn’t big enough for the both of us
not by half
haven’t found any more
new old corners
that don't bear witness
to barely hidden history

our first city
on our first trip overseas
summer loving autumn
six years deep at the shallow end

and we were
so silly
when you look back at it now

back to my aunty’s house
the room I'm staying in
same one we were staying in
room she didn’t want to fool around in
because we were staying
in my aunty’s house
after all

got it
to just
carry on

and I am getting the fuck out of here.

one last look around

doesn’t like look I’ve forgotten anything




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