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Issue # 2 September 2010
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare


Middle-aged and mildly neurotic, Laurice has been re-arranging words since 1994, after attending art school in a misguided and unsuccessful attempt to ward off a mid-life crisis. She's earned money from at least six poems and several competitions, and has managed her emotional life without illegal self-medication, despite a brief stint as a life model. Early retirement enabled her to rise from committee member of the New Zealand Poetry Society to National Coordinator in charge of everything. Election to President occurred when no-one else wanted the job. Four adult children are proud of her achievements, her husband merely bemused.

Laurice Gilbert

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Banana in the Broody Bin

a fluff of Rhode Island red
nestling into familiar yellow straw

chicken wire supporting her feet
a cold draught caressing her over-heated belly

twice a day she rises from her nest
eats, drinks, fights from the bottom of the hen hierarchy

and then is lifted, returns
to her solitary vigil

no social perch invites chook gossip
no night roost invades her privacy

there's just the wire and straw
darkness of separation

each day eggs, brown-speckled-warm
appear and are disappeared

she poks rhythmically to herself
waiting for her babies to grow