blackmail press 32
Iain Britton
New Zealand

Moka's Utu - Penny Howard
Poetry published widely here and overseas.

Oystercatcher Press (UK) published my 3rd poetry collection in 2009. Kilmog Press my 4th in 2010. The Red Ceilings Press (UK) published an ebook 10 Poems in 2011. Forthcoming collection with Lapwing Publications (UK) due out soon,  plus an Argotist Ebook in June.

dressed up in a crystal palace

caught between the contact lenses

of a dirty weekend

with thoughts of being

a person sheathed within a person

I pass faceless dolls   dressed up

for painting the town in bubonic splotches

(I offer meths fixers their wish lists

in a holy grail)

you walk the plank

as if I were there too

faceless in a crystal palace

you balance precariously

everything seems tropical

seems abundant

grows abundantly

exists under this curving shelter from the storm

I am your human handler
       your human dogsbody

your make-believe role model in human fragments

always       you’re in my sights     

          you wear a motto around your neck

you have one chance only

                             to save this green horizon           
this maternal colossus

      crawling on all fours
      on broken ground

I balance precariously

                  amongst others

     slick and shiny      with no party to go to

     no function to celebrate

a mass production of dolls

greets me without having to say so

they freeze their poses         yet seem to watch

as I pass
                             prodding the air

the children      play at executioners

at viewing their life-spans

and living off the pathogens of Paradise

constantly           you’re in my sights

collaborative statements make all the difference          one

applauds the other         the other

        tumbles through streets         

   fighting for pictures


torn mugshots /       / hang by folds

a mummified genie

(half unwrapped)      smirks

the shop is in ruins

and a goat herd      clatters on the trot to be milked


upside down

                     over capitalization

enables homes to be quilted into streets

movies for adults

   in Aegean technicolour

screen nightly


    alive in plaster        sky-dive

from God’s right finger          

and onlookers

                   crane their necks

   gobble anything that’s going

like manna from high places


worn antiquity

shows its flakes        a wooden horse
has been wheeled in for an all-expenses-paid
escape for those who want it

the sun is elsewhere being argumentative
resistant to change /     bloody-minded

the shop is in ruins


going nomadic

                       is an excuse

for reviving superstitions
                talking to oneself /       / gesticulating wildly

    burning hard-earned sacrifices

on rock piles in the desert

earmarked for heavenly delights


she tramples on field coordinates

on paths earmarked for urbanised heavenly delights

         she lights up a system of caves

            (the bats long gone)

it seems intrusive

but generational habits still persist

         a crawling upwards

              is still the only way out           


I’ve written my version of events

(in triplicate this morning)       of suddenly last summer

I’ve watered down my part

           to a spectral observation

she        the red-wrapped drama queen      licks

an ice cream

hugs local panoramas

talks me through pornographic slideshows

through guest lists        

            drinking from  the same glass

she holds me up to airborne nuances


                   her favourite people


                   good-byes /       / hellos

a kind of primal saturation
can be read into what we hope for