Ken's Poetry

Hokitika Man

The man outside the Hokitika store
stands astride on twisted tree-root legs
and gross contortion of root and branch
display a nightmare of white bone and limb,
the ribcage gnarled and knuckled in its growth
polished by the white abrasive beach
contorts in serpent mimicry old bones;
the bulging head, gaped mouth and displaced eyes
just slits and caverns in a broken root.

The mind’s focus twists
to confront real flesh and bone,
the macabre root and branch within ourselves.