A few weeks ago I noticed some photocopies of a poem had been pasted up on the usual places along Symonds Street and K Road.
I don’t know who wrote the poem or why they pasted many copy of it up in public. Having read it a few times, it seems clunkily written, awkward to read – especially aloud – and the main point in this poetic manifesto seems confused and meanders, distracted by other bits and pieces which must also be shared with Auckland’s inner city community.
But what got my attention wasn’t the poem, but the comments that other people had scribbled them. Two copies on K Road had something like “Obviously this person has never been to Family” (Family = gay bar), and another poster on Symonds Street had, “Yay. Now this poster is my girlfriend!”
I was searching for an intact copy of the poster, hopefully one with some witty comments on the bottom, but by the time I got around to taking my camera to work, all the posters had been ripped off or covered over, leaving only the above fragments.
But finally I found a whole one across the road from work that also had some comments. As well as, “and your point is?” written in faint biro, there was also nice big letters proclaiming, “disco sucks, fuck everything”, which, incidentally, was my life’s philosophy from 1993 to 1997. Ok, so here’s the poem. Click for big.
BONUS: What else do the streets of Auckland have to offer? Why, it’s timely commentary on U2 and their sold-out concert: