iii
Travelling towards
The past of Ponsonby
No longer on a big, yellow, bendy
Banana, wending through
the Queen’s grand canyon
Spread-eagled, inviting all comers
But on a Link
Bus as it slinks
Like a silvery shadow
. . . I think
Upon safe-sex allegations
iv
K’Rd, looking at O’Malley’s Corner
Listening to the talking bus
‘Next Stop . . .’ and thinking
About the time I’m remembering
the Naval and Family
Which still looks beautiful, decrepit
And I’m remembering also
The song we sang, although
About another Samoan woman
. . . we sang slow
In perfect harmony of reggae off-beat
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