Day Twenty-One...

Day Twenty One…

My life suddenly feels a ceremonial journey, an anniversary of burning skies imparting lessons that boil in my throat. I am calmer and mellowed by tears that were tainted by fear, as I watch patterns of that dead body’s bled shame in a bowl of water before me – morning’s wash off final friends – a queer anatomy of tears that she had heaven forebear.
In town after an slight hour in a death mobile, with other commuters to a straddled city, I battle a burning bladder. Pay a Rand’s worth for piss in amidst slime and greased floors, a murky urinal glistening sordid gold – a stench of defecation peering, then slithering through barred windows without panes. A dodgy cashier with a canopy pf reddened locks has browned eyes, pupiled with a serene grey circle piercing gently through a ragged pose. There are orange clad women munching on vetkoeks and tea prior to hitting pothole of a wretched landscape. A wreck museum of derelict Hillbrow buildings bathing under the blue sky calls me nigh. I venture to preside over dead ore of rusted masonry, person-cell unawares of still webs weaved to catch his shoulder… then I decide:
Unapparel flesh’s limitations poet,
Crash into other shadows of fun – a dream you had somewhere shiny under a dark shield.

Then a hypothesis arises:
Perhaps the nature of this God is a circle of which the centre is everywhere and the circumference nowhere…

It is then that I return once again to the gates of a hedonisiuos colony, and sit at a table where it all began for me…

At Niki’s