blackmail press 35
Loveday Why
New Zealand

Taipari O Maraea - Penny Howard
Loveday's chapbook, Chillida and the Sound, was published in 2012. She is studying for a PhD in contemporary poetry at Otago University.

Bushy didn't buy the teapot because it had the wrong sort of spout.
He and he both came to split the firewood, the dogs slipped their tongues through cages.
Bushy is called the housewife's solace, frightened the ladies he bought a muffin tin from
because he was so enthusiastic about home-made jams, leant over the counter forcefully
and chose the black tablecloth because it's 'real me.'
I hear him now by the door say 'we are an island of warriors.'
I hear him say genealogy. I see his eyes, the scratches on his neck from temperance.


A body's not opaque   my body lets   you
  leak into me      when I simply brush your hand from    my face

I am   busy stop     always crouching behind  me
  caressing    my thighs  
you listen to skills I feel you should gain

                      seedlings burst earth     in a fish container
  weather marks our bodies like it   knows our    interior
baby we go      to hospitals      and I find I can speak    Spanish

I buy a craft knife for ten cents
               there is nothing         still    about calm
    when you rest            I am orgasmic  with  fear


you move away      from all suns with your skin     darkening
there are mountain ranges of sand at your feet
there's the ice wind that blows in the desert
there's the lonely mouth of the sea
What could you have thought of? her arms heavy with sheets?
her wings?
just because you are worn shiny by hands   it does not mean  you are   gleaming


Was she happy ever? Believing her skirts were quick animals, glancing from the stirring stove to what was chasing round the door frame. Did you love her in the entirest way you could? As if she were the element from which you were made. As if without her you would be the shadow of a statue walking away. Il vient, s’en va, puis il revient.

She stands at the window watching for the approach of words that will shatter her life
and let her go on living. Lean on us, say the trees, though she dances beneath their roots.