The Pretentious Poet #1: Vincent O'Sullivan

New Zealand Gerald is proud to present the first in a new series of posts showcasing New Zealand's finest poetic talents. "The Pretentious Poet" series condenses the genius of NZ's leading poetic lights into a single poem: a distillation of their greatest hits — and misses.

The honour of being New Zealand Gerald's first Pretentious Poet goes to Vincent O'Sullivan, whose most recent collection of poetry is The movie may be slightly different (Victoria University Press, 2011).

According to his publisher, "The movie may be slightly different offers a rich harvest of recent poems displaying the wit, intellectual agility and arresting beauty for which Vincent O'Sullivan is renowned."

It certainly provided a rich harvest for New Zealand Gerald. Now, dear readers, sit back and enjoy "The Pretentious Poet #1: Vincent O'Sullivan". 

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I’m gonna give you “God” in the first line —
He always stands for anything I can’t explain
which is a lot more than I can.

Coupe du Monde is French, which goes well

with Latin canis tags — ask God for help if you don’t get it.

The movie of this poem will never be made

but I'll take you through the storyboard anyway.

We open on . . . Sundays. I’m so old I can . . .

No, it’s too painful. God, are You there yet?

As the fat, boss-eyed mama shattered the bead curtain

I almost dropped the relic of St Peter she wanted 6,000 euros for.

It was his coccyx; it smelled of ambergris.

The mama babbled something in Italian and I answered in

Ancient Greek: “Gnothi seauton.” Her reply came crisp,

Like a gala apple: “Vaffanculo!” She wasn’t a saint.

I read today that tutae means “shit” and felt full of myself.

I once dined with God on squid ink linguine in San Marino.

It was an electric, erotic experience.

I wouldn’t let Him pay — I’ve made a fortune using Him in my poems.

As we left He said: "I love your poetry. It really speaks to Me."