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TAUMARUNUI BREAKDOWN Up hill breakdown on a blue day heading south heading home to where the snow capped peaks trade stories with clouds And into the world of cellphones we go interlacing with humans quiet loud crooked and vague but all, seemingly, happy or crazy or both The shaft on the water pump sheared right off rescue truck to Taumarunui hot motel water and a real bed in a dying town until another day once more shuffles the cards I & I CAPITAL CITY Good morning Wellington we toed the line past snow cone volcanoes in our repaired and revamped van light of heart and light of wallet and hitting the city at rush hour to find a stable some shelter for the night Fresh night on Cuba Street almost a european bent the eateries and bars doing a healthy tuesday night business but we are peopled-out and almost give up when a Malaysian Goat Curry crosses our track and on a night such as this it would’ve been hard to beat Then we walk some more buy wine and chocolate return to our room of instability and allow a few hours to drift by looking down at the traffic light go red gold green Jah Rasta Far I praise to the highest to the oneness of life REASSURED She with her face on coming out of the Laundry Room her mother still inside clutching the walking frame but collapse will surely come paint does not last forever FROM A HOTEL WINDOW just one stone building visible old and yellow mainly although parts are a brown/mauve with smudges of off-white here and there everything else is much newer glass walls vainly reflecting one another and hopeful that any future earthquake will not be disrespectful MORNING WITH CORRUGATION for a capital city Wellington wakes up gently there are hats and bags scarves and shorts taxis, busses and brake lights on the grass between tall buildings a black dog runs for a ball and pigeons swoop down from corrugated steel roofs the sky is blue and calm and if you like you can order your breakfast in sign language Maybe 3 years have passed since i last posted on this Wrong Way Street. Where was i back then? The Outer Hebrides? Sheffield? Vienna? All i know is i was in all 3 of those places but have been in New Zealand 2 months shy of 3 years;.... long enough to become a resident, long enough to have played a part in several thousand loaves of bread and lived in 5 different places including a bunker and a caravan, long enough to have exhausted a city and seen babies grow into amazing running, falling reasoning beings. Starting off on the North Island and now down South, or the New North, as i prefer to think of it, (for i have always gravitated towards the poles) far from the maddening crowds, in a beautiful valley with a mountain at its head, a river and four miles of dirt track with 4 water crossings to reach the tarmac out. Was it planned to be this way? No. All that shaped it was a keen eye for the next Wrong Way Street. But now i'm here and safe in The Compound it feels the right time for more Wrong endeavors and particularly those of the written word. Let the fonticism begin!  |
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November 2019
WRONG WAY STREET
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