There was a truck, a chorrie
Some people would call it a lorry
It backfired one day
And was heard to say,
‘Jislaaik, I’m  blerry sorry.’

There was a man called Venter
Who married an old yenta
He became Magaya
And said, “I’m no liar,
My name has changed to Centner!”

Listen: that is air;
                   that is birdsong;
                              the total weightlessness
of freedom without consequence
felt not even in the moment before
it flees, but once its residue breathes
a small signal, whispering, "Listen!"

Now hear: that is mind;
                            second self;
                                   the Thing that chides cautiously,
"Life is an intricate system of Dominoes,
             and you are as the first block in the series.
                        No sweet moment goes unnoticed by the universe."

--and I am eternally at the ready
to invite some awful Punishment
into my world, should I choose
this small happiness.  Ah,
is that what you'd have me believe?

The air is too cool, the birdsong
too bright, and the streets
too clean and white that I might
ere long make my leave.  Not yet,
not yet.

Listen, voice,
           Listen, psyche,
                       Listen, Thing: today, I take no heed of you!

1
If unicorns were real
I can’t imagine much would change

I might own one
Get high on the finely chopped fibers of fur
Collected from his grooming

And when girls ask me how I came to be so sweet
I’d tell them how I was ***** once by my unicorn

How some sorts of sticky sweetness haunt your soul forever

2
In the second grade
I swore I had dinosaurs living in my backyard

This is after I swore that I actually had a backyard

Never mind the hand-me-down t-shirts
So big I often exposed a boney shoulder

I had the strangest tan lines then

3
Under my bed was a cave
Where the boogeyman taught me
I should be more afraid of my father’s feet at the entrance
And less afraid of things I could not see

In the shifting dark I could have been anywhere

Anywhere was somewhere
My father’s claws could still not get me

4
For the longest time I thought my grandmother’s ghost
Haunted me
I’d often wake to the smell of her musty home
Mixed with her perfume
and the sweet scent of the soft earth she often tended

Until one day I didn’t notice her anymore

Ghosts are the parts of the people we miss
When our stupid brains are still learning how to deal with loss

I’d like to say that once I finally stopped missing her
She was free to leave earth for heaven

I don’t believe in heaven

5
If god were real
And I could live forever by his side

I would still break everything
From bones to hearts

Because I can’t live for tomorrow
I need to live for today

6
As a man
I still tell stories in order to get people to like me

So
When my unicorn finally dies
Or majestically sacrifices himself
For my sake

I will grind him down to glitter
And unicorn glue
(Which is very strong)

I’ll make a sign so big you can see it sparkle from space

I was here *******

And this is how I will live forever

Maybe there are other people like us,
scraping £2.50 to get the night bus.
Requiring time,
but never a sign of love lost.

So when I wake up,
I look for the nearest shake up.
Wiping off your girlfriends make up,
because nothing will ever stop us.
Sending penetrating shivers,
an ecstasy like gold rush.

Back to sipping Hennessey,
making the girls blush but there ain’t no fuss,
‘coz the girls lost coming at a big cost,
as I plan the beginning the end and sub-plot.
Daym this girls hot but she don’t like ***,
if I don’t deliver man get shot.
Left 6ft under to rot, while my babies crying in her cot,
something the government planned,
straight to the source of another blood clot.

Unbelievable feeling’s that came from us,
but nothing was going to stop that bus
so don’t cause a fuss, head up and believe in trust.
If you could see me now, then you’d understand
two bags short of tenner, another pocket with ten grand.
Thinking about street corners, the place where it started,
going way back now, before my mother departed.
Family distraught, the horizon broken hearted.

Taking into account, the past and what’s it done,
I must face the consequences and what’s ahead to come.
It isn’t going to be fun, but I can’t turn and run,
believe in fate so the future doesn’t appear glum.
Then we call a peace treaty, and lay down our gun.

We are in an empire of a thousand sons,
but in the end we all count as one.
We will do our best to not act glum,
but when push comes to shove there will always be one.
Spontaneous heartache,
a natural disaster.
Poverty stricken nations,
A dictator for their master.

In my heart and in my mind
I’ll still find the time,
to teach every bird how to fly,
and every person to live the perfect lie.
We will wish for better days,
look to the skies and we will prey,
but in my heart and in my soul,
life’s love lost moments eat us whole
as we engage in our final goal.

If she even remembers me
for flying off the handle,
for broken picture frames
and a life that’s been dismantled,
then she’s like a flame,
flickering forever on my candle.

Like my mother used to say,
the days remain bright but the sky always grey,
a reminder of the past time
a substitute for the right way.
We set our stage on the shore-line,
blankets laid beneath us,
gazed at the endless night sky,
waiting for Augusts rush.

Die stroom van verlange                             The stream of longing
Vloei na die see                                             Flows to the sea
In die verste diepte                                       To the furthest depth
Van sy blou heimwee.                                  Of its blue nostalgia

Die sande wag                                               The sands lie awaiting
Vir die verre wind                                          The distant wind -
Die rotse aanskou                                           The rocks gaze on
Die spelende see.                                            The playing sea

In een oomblik                                              In one moment
Spring die vis omhoog                                 The fish leaps on high
Deur die son beskilder                                  Painted by the sun
Dan ewig dood.                                             Then dead eternally.

So I was sitting on the sun,
Drinking coffee and wine.
The moonlight shone down upon me,
Smirking in silvery pride.

I took a paper and drew a globe,
I sat thinking of the colours in monochrome.
A frightened breeze flew by,
As I sat on the sun, looking so dry.

A ventriloquist came by,
Asking for shade under a tree.
I looked at him and laughed,
For I sat on the sun looking so free.

So sitting on the sun,
I observed the earth so far.
But I sat on the sun,
Drinking iced tea from a jar.