Gallery

Savoring eight Oreo’s

Sixteen dark cookies

One cold white milk from her fridge

A Distant Feast: A History Of New Zealand’s Cuisine

Tony Simpson

Published by Godwit

The challenger stood,

come one, come all.

I’m prepared to beat you,

At Super S

Knock-kneed, body braced against the slope, a thin girl was absently consulting a bowl of dates and watching the marketplac

    A bunch of tents on a hill and some people. No, stop. Do it again, do it better. Five thousand tents on

The challenger stood,

come one, come all.

I’m prepared to beat you,

At Super S

"Taste of the Kiss"

Watcher

Shallow spectator

Sleeves rolled up, never dir

As branches scratched upon my windowsill,

Softly scratching, yet ever still,

I looked out through

long, long day at work, bushed but wired at the same time

still have a numbing drive home, ah home, peace, wine

anxious is her mood

as she waits upon her flight

cant take another moment

You tell me you’re coming home

2 am

The ripple of those words send me

Flushed

He swoons in acoustic

Circles

Melodic to the ticking in my

Heart

Arms h

I balance upon my own emotion

Wading reckless beneath just waves

Goldenrod pressed delicately at

The trouble is brewing in the north

Smiles cryptic with resonance of

Past lullaby scripture

i wake up in the middle of the night

not fairing better than any hopeful burst

of egocentricity tha

anxious is her mood

as she waits upon her flight

cant take another moment

She said shed make it easier for me

If I wanted her to

She took the kitchen knives and laid them<

         Chester Davenport grimaced as the burly federal agent hefted him to his fe

some folks seem a bit distraught

and disturbed by what i write

imagination so wound u

some folks seem a bit distraught

and disturbed by what i write

imagination so wound u

perception of depth, or depth of perception

is this painting in front of me of life

of reality, or

red hands, the reddest of them all.  

how daring and cunning, this crime—

to not be

walking with the trees to mind;

brick inlaid, red bricks. they lay.

water eases softly by, how

My hoe,

my love,

my Garden tool….

Grat

i guess you were             the      salty dog<

 Slow burning light of the afternoon

Oranges and reds begin to touch the sky

Slowly fading to

Disclaimer:   It is no doubt that the daily arrival of battle wounded begins to gnaw at a pe