Lisa McKenzie 2014
(1918)
half drowned he bows his head
prays before a dead dog
curled in the sand
he had cried in the hold
as The Gannet foundered
watermelons rolling free
green heads bobbing in the waves
- Kirkpatrick’s jam factory
where blades wait
and stirrers lean on hot metal
with melon juice stains
they break open on Ngaio beach
pink mouths choke with grit
wasps chew on the sweet flesh
their wings a thrill of sound
the man brushes them aside
places melon pieces around his friend
black eyes in red cups
like the poppies above his brother’s bones