Lil Mermaidz

Rinsing the sea salt out of our bikinis

with the drinking water and getting a slap

upside the head from your mother with her

House & Garden magazine reserved especially

for fanning away mosquitoes and sighing

because we know that this is how

it’s always going to be

because this is how it’s always been

because for thirteen years

it seemed that life was nothing but

a succession of hot summers and we were sure

that we were Tangaroa’s daughters, the way

we adapted to each turn in the river.

And I remember the year

we were the two strongest “girl swimmers”

in our syndicate. This meant

we were forever forced to race

the boys for Western feminism

and you would always win,

even against the boys who were so like men

the teachers treated them as if they were

more muscle than human.

In the damp parts of afternoons

we’d watch them running laps and

ripping Papatūānuku up

with their cleats. Their teeth clenched

around orange slices of rubber and the reo.

Well I felt sorry for them

slapping kia mate ururoa kei mate wheke

into their chests. Maybe

they wanted to be dolphins instead.

But that was our job, to dive dumb

into the skin of the sea and throw

our heads full of good hair skywards,

saluting the sun. Making scenes

of ourselves when we should have been

slinging pipis into your mother’s kete

reserved especially for stealing kaimoana.

But I was vegetarian and I didn’t wanna

have anything to do with prying kina

loose from the rocks

to offer up to the bros like pussy.

Them slurping and spitting while we flinch

oi don’t and they just chur each other on

like a pack of crackling gods.

And I can’t remember where we were

but I can guess that we were probably

doing what we were always doing

during those summers that sweltered

with a swagger, standing on the sand

picking out which surfers we wanted

or tanning on our backs in the soft parts

of the riverbank but somewhere

between the boys and the wet

centre of the earth I said Hey

have you ever noticed the way

boys seem to wiri when they’re angry?

The way their eyes roll back and

their lips pull tight? That’s adrenaline,

you say, taking a thirsty glug of water,

you want to bottle it, you say.

100% New Zealand Pure.