glamour gardener
Composting in red lipstick
she shovels, hands heavy with rings,
rips her brocade dress on a nail
glamour gardener-
shifting shit with a smile
the mud under her nails
hidden by scarlet lacquer
it's like in the magazines
a world without sweat,
where dirt adds character
she pulls the earth open
plants marigolds, moss
forget-me-nots
she will offer you silverbeet, herbs
and a dress she picked up for you
at the Saint Vincent de Paul
She is unforgettable,
lurks deep in the mind
even though she insists
"No photographs please,
no cameras."
capsule
Summer is swelling up
making us notice
that to lie on a lawn is luxury
we go to where the flowers smell
chasing scents among
suggestive, icy blooms
tea to warm our hands,
I strain flowers through my teeth
today we are wearing all the seasons
We slide into the light, pass
edible offerings from hand to hand
there is jasmine all around us,
There is jasmine in my mouth.
six ways of looking at a paua shell
1.
After searching all afternoon
for the perfect one
I go home empty-handed
2.
Neon green, electric blue-
Las Vegas lounge bar interior
3.
Broken up, they glitter the sand-
whole, they become birthday presents
4.
Where the shell
is most beautiful-
drop ash there
5.
Hung around necks,
threaded around wrists-
the democratic jewel
6.
Like a briney tea-cup-
the paua shell
holds the sea
