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Tag Archives: kzn

muddy boyfriend

. I pass Bongisiwe’s house. It’s a wooden two bedroom with chickens in the yard. Loud gospel music is swimming through the windows and a faint light seeps through. It makes me happy to think that her family is inside. Bundled up, her doing her homework, her mom feeding the baby, her father watching the news on TV. I want to go in. I want to ask them if they can change the colour of my eyes and make it all right again. But I don’t because I don’t want to make it right, I want to make it wrong and therefore I am wrong….. apparently. I sneak into one of the containers and watch the spores growing in the hay, soon they will be fungi and people will eat them. It feels magical. Tomorrow I will feel magical, tomorrow I will begin again. I will move, I will smile, I will tell Suzy and nick that I love them desperately and want them near. I will travel great continents to hold them close to me, let them feel this black heart bleat, let them know that I am in control; I am the maker, the marker, the mast and the helm. How do you begin again, which moment dictates the direction? I am standing now in the big green field next to the lake. The boat has been set free. I sit and listen to the night. I sit and wander what to think; now that I have destroyed all that I love and love all that I hate.

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QUIDNUNCS ARE PEOPLE TWO

They’re widening the roads and filling up the empty spaces with taxi ranks.

Sweet sellers sell dagga and fake Wayfarers.

Ex Rhodesian retirees own second hand book shops and a Chinese lantern hangs off a petrol pump. Mist settles and the liquor

store is owed money,

Beethoven pours out of duplex windows; For Sale signs are fashion décor.

30 000 construction workers on smoke breaks;

teenagers don’t understand municipal rates – nor do I.

You can swop cd’s for beer and dreams for security.

Highway Mail collages suffocate dustbins on verges of buffalo,

tennis balls roam around nets in the season’s afterglow.

Two white beggars for every traffic light; two is a couple and two is a fight

Horses and ponies and riders and perms

Berries and poison and mothers and germs

slipstreams and dimmers and uppers and coke

nightmares and bedrooms and rainstorms and strokes

Two black lawyers for every Luddite; two is a signal and two is birthright

They’re holding back on fear and fixing barbed wire with alarm systems.

Coffee shops hover over sewerage dungeons.

Ex ad execs fill up the seats at the pub and an Indian cricket team gets bounced at a nightclub.

Day breaks and the bakery bakes fires,

arguments pour out of mansion doors;

For Rent signs are fashion décor.

60 000 uniformed children off to school;

Jehovah Witnesses are still uncool – so am I.

You could exchange three lives that couldn’t add up to one.

Egyptian geese infiltrate the sunny afternoon rooftops;

g&t’s are spilt, guilt is built as a gift to the bishop

Two white beggars for every traffic light; two is a couple and two is a fight

Horses and ponies and riders and perms

Berries and poison and mothers and germs

slipstreams and dimmers and uppers and coke

nightmares and bedrooms and rainstorms and strokes

Two black lawyers for every Luddite; two is a signal and two is a fight