Contrary to what Kiwi's try to claim, there is civilization in New Zealand, (now whether or not they can act is another matter ).
Why the works of the poet James Baxter alone would make a fine, fine, literary canon:
Alone we are born
and die alone
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
over snow-mountain shine
upon the upland road
ride easy stranger
Surrender to the sky
your heart of anger.
Dear Sam, this day as I came down
The steps that take me into town,
Rehearsing in my head these rhymes
That hold a mirror to the times,
A perfect omen crossed my track,
A garbage-eater, wild and black,
Pugnacious, paranoid and sly,
A tomcat with a boxer’s eye
Dripping a gum of yellow pus,
I thought that he resembled us
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.
-From Election 1960
I really must buy myself some of his collected poems. I worry though because I don't like Baxter's denser, more preachy religious poetry, especially the stuff he started writing later in his life.
Anyway, he's pretty much the extent of my familiarity with Kiwi Literature. Perhaps some people, like Refus, could enlighten me further