“Wayne’s turning 21!” we were all told with jubilation.
Three invitations flew over clear wires – not the envisaged four.
Off we went to see Johannesburg in all her splendid animation,
To see rowdy Bosmont and Hillbrow where one could easily score.

Welcome, welcome. Hug, kiss.
Decorative drinks,
Fiery foods,
Howsthingsgoingshesgoodwerewellthanksohpleasesayhellotosoa­ndso

Young couples and old lonely perverts boogied
To cheesy, overplayed Montel Jordan
As a token of celebration of the coming of age
Of a distant stranger in their shoulder-brushing midst.

Unmoved and unphased by the utterings of
Worn walls which let off more than they should,
I steeped out for air –
All too surprised what I found there.

Head patriarchs and young bucks were locked in a humming imbizo,
Ironing out the kinks and strategizing links.
Circled were the Rat, the Rock and the Rock’s Mirror:
His unknown carbon copy warranted no introduction.

Cheerio, charming castaway.
Sorry our moms couldn’t bury their green feud.
Of all the dirt and grime Jozi spreads,
The memory of our encounter is a most indelible mould.
Meet you on the flipside, lost brother.
You live your life and don’t look back – you deserve better.