a sunny Saturday along the foreshore
with youthful associates of Jesus proselytising
could be the last chance for some
or salvation for others
the sky offers neither
evidence nor denial
while somewhere beyond the low-rise city
a rooster crows
the now cynically bilingual council
agrees it’s always good
for our rangatahi to have something in common
to interest and amuse them
but history’s a tight fist
knuckling the back of the neck
two centuries of colonisation
have done nothing to alleviate
nor can changing the labels
on the package go far
promises broken are still broken
with new promises pasted over them
