Tauranga

 

Laura’s mum’s friend is wasted
she is slow-moving-glassy-eyed wasted
we are babysitting her daughter, Danielle
after, beside the milky, milky pool
tilted away from the many-splendoured street lamp

the stars are so pretty, very very pretty
and we are laughing laughing
Laura’s head drops right down
between the two wicker pool-chairs in the dark
ahhh!

I feel bad for Danielle, I say
Danielle, says Amy, who is Danielle?
and Laura and I laugh and laugh

and on the grass (which is so cool, very very cool)
I mould my clay thoughts
and push my brown fingers into the dirt
and the grass is beneath the stars

the next morning on the intercity bus
I look at the tattered edges of the Mount: stained
brick houses, yellowing lawns
sad and relentless
the air is scorched by the lenses of my sunnies

Danielle’s brother is at least 30
her father is fishing in Dubai
Laura’s mum’s husband
says her mum got pregnant with her on purpose

I leave my sunglasses on
even though the windows of the bus are tinted
we are still hours from Auckland

 


Antonia Smith
Year 12
Rangitoto College