Breakfast now polished, we all climbed in
The warm silver Mercedes automatic,
Headed for Durban’s deep indigo tides for the day
To forget the ache of isolated hills for a brief spell.

The mighty, gargling Tugela passed quickly with its bellowing bovine
As we trekked on through toll booths,
Shell Select shops
And then past Shaka’s Kraal, Ballito and finally into beloved Durbs.

Now parked on philandering Point Road,
We entered The Wheel, South Beach’s green Ferris jewel.
MacRib was struck off the list first with a bony feast,
Then Wimpy knocked off next with a bubbly milkshake.

Two o’clock and we were on Pickering Street,
Where I saw a seated elderly mystic
Searching for truth and enlightenment in a black forest
As told by paint on 7-ply Canadian maple.

On the way home, I saw a man shorn of abode and company.
wheredoeshelivedadwhydoesheaskformoneywhydoeshehavenofri­endsdad
OH – I SEE (why doesn’t this happen at home?)
“Never look down on him – only learn from him,” the Rock advised.

Kind soul nested in rags, teach me your ways.
Loosen my heart from civilsation’s self-fulfilling coil.
I’ll keep the *** warm for tea and marmalade toast
When we meet and dine at the passing of this sordid world.