Afer the wink-and-elbow, the unthrown kiss, David Howard (Nueva Zelanda)

Afer the wink-and-elbow, the unthrown kiss

the fact of the matter is the fact of the matter doesn’t matter

much. There is love, the abstract noun ahead of every verb;

there is the rest, that dollars-and-cents world

where love must announce itself at street corners, school

bicycle sheds smelling of chain oil and boy.

A halo fades the way affection does after a night in the baths.

One moment the no-hoper becomes indispensable, the next

his body is on a cart in the square. There is a woman and then –

best say nothing, flustered under the stairs where a saint stood

the day before you thought to look up.

David Howard (Nueva Zelanda)

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