Ode to Wellington

Oh Wellington
I thought
thee art Bexity
in those ten days of my second coming

wellington thy words have fallen into a green ocean where ducks float to the edge

I was chased out of here (before) by cat poo and creaking floors after a samoan intercity handy night

I ran pacific shaken as birds flew billed to the edge like everyone else from Lyall bay taxied for $35


As I stand here and wonder what happened to emma's crying blue eyes I chase

Tepapapa's million portraits and victoria's nursing shadows from a dusty bagpackers

To nomadic heights. I chase distant 18th century lanterns over the oriental bay


Dan climbed faster than me as I spoke to the cute nurse. Oh! I love cute nurses like I love librarians and old castles and Anglican churches and graveyards

Day one was when we had Indian curry on cuba street and saw panaromic views of the city and tried apologizing to old flatmates but the bitch was a fat piece of crap at the edge of northland ready to fall in her rotting wood like a insect with juicy breasts

Then came day two (technically day four) but who wants to know about my first trip anyway?

I thought lower hutt was a beach and upper hutt where the rich lived not graffiti brats trying to be black

Nor orange airport bus drivers that hated life and living things and I swung on kid's swings and slid down

The slide that faced the sea and Circa's Linda who thought American Pilot must be watched.

Was watched
Next day after what happens in vegas and wheat juice as I bunked with 5 girls how lucky can backpackers get
Day three is when the only guy left and the English snore girl left but the American and German cunt

And the nice pommy girls remained. I hated the german and found the anarchist internet place

And without feeding the pigeons went up the cable car and saw Island bay and Khandalla and Mt. Victoria

Where a Chinese bus driver told me that the city was egalitarian and the lights were real. Not Mission bay

I thought



I had eaten my samosas and discussed women with downtown backpacker guys and devoured kachori

And ate English hot cauliflower curry what an error who'd think pommies liked it hotter than frozen meat

The university gave me my wind cheater jacket that can make you sweat but next day I cross cook strait


The grey morning got into stunning sounds after hearing arctic stories and weed-ridden heart break song

The wind could blow you far away

A library and friendly $2 museum and the dutch that cycled two islands to save africa's children

And then I met hannah and of course Melonee…princess Taurus Melanie like bex only few days apart and what lovely women eternal and thus I saw Te Papa. Oh my god Tepapa made my life a work of art and pictures kissed my soul and city's traffic lights in oil and tram and red post box made me breath but Melanie left as I explored caves downstairs and stuff the birds who gives a dime


And slept through the arvo after a hot feast and Paddington Coat Factory's lovely long jacket held Melanie as we smiled should we have kissed?

The kiwi bargain hunting second hand wedding packed dan to palmy and I loved kapiti bay and how Saturdays were times when you got a few deals.

Melanie and I were awkward again and she spend time with her lot and packed her bags with a ferocious noise and I was lost.


Found in empathy by Bex

And the city gallery and the art gallery but Bex essentially Bex. Connections from another world and I know…I was there.

But buses did not come through and taupo was lost and like Indiana Jones I could not revive my first day at burger King and the second hand book shop that had the most amazing legs on display


And the 7th day when Borders looked bigger than a library and friendlier than a autumn coloured yellow red maple leaves behind the bee hive and embassies

Bex went home and Melanie was gone and all these people that we knew from last life did not give a damn or pretended they did not understand

Dan left for Melbourne

He wanted to be worthy of the city

And return to Wellington

I met Kelly's services and rested

And thought of all these that came from nowhere like sharks at Mangonui


Tried the satay roti paratha

A Singaporean delicacy that originated in India

I ditched telecom and all my telecom friends and called them fat and ugly

And in the pouring rains went into bird sanctuary and future flatmates windswept homes and cold Wellington rivers as robins did their things and Americans dropped me to botanical gardens

As an angry driver gave me hell

I won a sipper in the mall

And 20 push-ups later

A giant drink

I had enough.



Tomorrow I leave.

This was Bex's city

And I will return and the sun came out

But everything else was dark for now.




Oh wellington you have been kind to me tonight.

meetin bex

running shadows you pack your bags and rains and storms and cook straitbleedsand paint falls on civic square and lies and misunderstandings of closedheartsbirds sing in their black sanctuary...Te Papa quakes and you know loveis commercea glance a smile and unsaid word a friend a laughter as light runsout...Bex is thereyou have a pal.