Election 1960 – James K. Baxter
Hot sun. Lizards frolic
Fly-catching on the black ash
That was green rubbish. Tiny dragons,
They dodge among the burnt broom stems
As if the earth belonged to them
Without condition. In the polling booths
A democratic people have elected
King Log, King Stork, King Log, King Stork again.
Because I like a wide and silent pond
I voted Log. That party was defeated.
Now frogs will dive and scuttle to avoid
That poking idiot bill, the iron gullet:
Delinquent frogs! Stork is an active King,
A bird of principle, benevolent,
And Log is Log, an old time-serving post
Hacked from a totara when the land was young.
O'Sullivan, V. (Ed.). (1979). An anthology of twentieth century New Zealand poetry. Wellington: Oxford University Press.