What it Feels Like - Trevor Hayes
A boat weighing anchor.
Sunken treasure. A boot
full of electric guitars. Eels
in a dark pool. Any material
being ripped apart. A tuneless
whistle or melancholic whale.
A dying camel, drying enamel.
It feels like the latest orgasm.
The roots of trees – birds
alighting from their branches.
It feels like OUT FOR GOOD
BEHAVIOUR! Like a sea shell
listening back. It feels like the light.
It feels like right brain left
hemisphere, north and south, the edge
of reason, like I'm out of season.
It feels like the shrift from the short,
the long from the tall, like nothing before.
Contributor's Note
I studied at Waikato University in the early nineties. I now live in Punakaiki. I have just had my first chapbook published by Seraph Press.