Thank you mum
for our precious times
that were filled with so much fun 
Our wonderful family holidays 
Starting when we were very young
Waipatiki beach such a beautiful place 
With the sun and the sea breeze on our face
Mum and Aunty in a caravan 
us kids would pitch our tents
Chuck on our togs, grab a towel
off to the beach we went 
Campsite was in a paddock 
Adjacent to the beach 
We had camp beds 
so mattresses were off the ground
So for us the evening chill did not reach
Sometimes a friend was able to come 
this would really add to the fun  
Such a special place this was
where the river meets the ocean
Late at night as we lay in our tents
we'd listen to the waves motion
Time spent at the beach  
searching for sea crustaceans
with mum and aunty
on our seaside family vacations
We'd swim in the River 
swim in the Sea
Such wonderful memories these are for me

Witnessed uprooting :                  
                              ritual
        ­                                                               in the piracy of night
bare                                          
your sinning          
                               skin-suit
unhuman-you                       
                                 your human right
time fled along      
                             ebrius     
                                                     when i witnessed
your trespass
                   your violation
                                                       ­       you
                                                             uprooting the root
in the rivalry
                             of the night



up
upon the morning                                                          ­                           
                         you raise your muzzle blighted
turn your unprocessed head                                                    
        ­                           to retrieve social frequency                                           
                                                             tune in to the light
cold dew on a damaged lawn                                                
you collect your togs 
                                                        you­r paraphernalia                                     
                                                and pick your way tender:
        a rejoining propulsion                            
                  toward the convulsive city
to bed yourself                      
                 beneath its
quickening day
hungover
in selfish
wit