In his dreams 
               the mouth of night 
is mute      from a year of troubled star-gazing

terrified and unwilling         to explain
the idea of         tomorrow
         to a boy      averse to propulsion.


No news from the control centre
regarding signs of new life. (The adoring astronomer
                     disarmed by scientific intent.)

This is the twenty-first century: surely we have
the technology to instil hope      or at the very least
         encourage us to believe in the idea of hope.


He holds his breath     and thinks dangerous 
thoughts      of lightning     shooting skywards 
         from his eyes.

Each blunt day brings     another reason to pray 
         or hours spent hanging on
stars that never return         his attention.


Gravity, orbits:
                  unforgiving attraction
to the things that draw us near but never reach out.

Still no news.      These slow days 
               draw out      with marbled static
and a distinct lack         of interest.

Chris Tse was born and raised in Lower Hutt. He studied film and English literature at Victoria University, where he also completed an MA in Creative Writing at the International Institute of Modern Letters. He is one of three poets featured in AUP New Poets 4 (Auckland University Press, 2011). His first full-length collection, How to be Dead in a Year of Snakes, will be published in 2014 by Auckland University Press.

Poem source details >



Chris Tse's website