1960s New Zealand – plump and complacent
independent in name
colonial by inclination
public holidays for visits by the sovereign
‘God Save the Queen’ played before any occasion
and performance – stage or celluloid.
The provinces reflected the cities
the cities mirrored the provinces
Placid, judgemental rhythms of certainty
trivia the conversation staple
the awkward avoided
or spoken in code – if not able to be.
In July of last year of the decade
Neil Armstrong and one giant leap
satellite television yet to beam on lonely islands
on the radio
audio streaming I suppose.
It was the story of the year
and displaced one more sensational
heard immediately before
the thundering echo of Cape Canaveral.
A loose collective of cyclists
yet to know double-digits by age
pedalled to school
swapping stories of weekend sport
and weekday television.
One morning a tale incredible and unlikely
one of our number has seen his parents
“kissing…..in the nude.”