In the midst of it all
she imagined she saw a dog run by; it might have been a goat.
Feral and white, and bearing its teeth like something that belonged to the wilderness, to the openness.
That place in the south, not Cape Town, but close enough,
was oddly unfamiliar
still, she held it close against herself
swayed, pirouetted until it must
have meant something.
More than a t-shirt
less than a friend.

Don't let anyone tell you I've
never been unkind
lately I've been living for the lesser things:
the used, the hand-me-downs, half worn and frayed, carelessly marred as you straddled another in the car's backseat;
these I have come to love again, in spite of you, clean and new
Say what you will

There are ants in my bed
Last night you lay there and talked about yourself, and the bread left crumbs; now they're all relentless, the ants are scattered and some of them are marching, over and over the folds in the sheet.
Instead of cleaning up, I wonder what I will do if I can't make them leave.

The boards let the bears tell them they were brown, an unsightly colour
It was what they were
Brown, the boards
What could be done?

Ask me something
say it like you mean it
How was my day, and close the curtain, come here
The traffic was a nightmare, you wish I could've seen it.
I tell you I did

Word must have got around.
Or do you think he did not know
Did not want to know?
You are just like I.
Word must have gotten around

He didn't look at her again after that
The street was straight ahead and that's where he trained his gaze, for it wouldn't be long
She said nothing else, just smiled, sadly
Wishing for simpler thoughts.