guest lecturer used: “the blood-soaked earth”
for my long island  –  –  –  scatterbroken  –  –  –  ghost storied
bruised by little wars of the closed door kind
from ancient times like 1970.

say a boy goes nightdriving round the mountain + sees
what he should not have seen.
it takes a real Achilles to pluck him out of his car seat
and place his jaw on the
kerb.

say a brother-on-sister battle finally closes
when she throws herself on the mercy of the road
drawing the real world in  – – –  witness her chemical warfare!!
salted earth!! – – – when her womb buckles over the pavement

say someone hammers a line of skyscrapers
into the skin of my island
so blood beads in the alleys
stirring up old-ghosts  – – –  sticky-ghosts  – – –  drunk-ghosts  – – – 

pulling up the road fistful by fistful,
squeezing each lump
until it leaks pinky red.

newly calved ground, these taranaki streets