Description
“It’s not all right until it’s finished
until each line swishes & clicks
like a well-coupled train, until
the margins are even and it sits
on the page like a brick, ready
to crack your thin skull by mass
and effrontery, wrapped in the
soft silk stocking that is words.”
A collection of poems that ponder everything from history and Auckland weather, to absence and antique books.
“Scintillating and roving, this is a rich, refreshing read.” – Siobhan Harvey, NZ Herald
