Knuppeldik gaan slaap die stad
na 'n feesmaal van smaak en kleur
vloei die reuke deur die strate
in 'n Brown se beweging van geur.

Alle trommels , trommeldik maar maak 'n lee geraas
en in die donker , agterstrate begin die ander nou te aas

Kom die honger hande uit die sakke
en krap met rook-geel vingernael
soek die skummel in die swartsak
vir 'n laaste dissipelsmaal.

Maar jy is skille , jy is doppe
jy is alles wat laat gril
nie genoeg vir koningstafels maar vir my
net genoeg om die  knaagdiere te stil.

Onerfare soos ek is , vat my hongerbrein ook mis
watter mens kan so dan lewe? watter mens kan so dan eet?
van die lykswa en die straatveers
het hierdie boemelaar vergeet.
Ek is mens en nie 'n vark nie,
(al moet 'n mens ook eet).

En stil vergaan die boemelaar
wat kieskeur ook wou wees,
nog 'n straatkind se ou lykie
nog 'n honger kinder gees...

ek wat was het mos gesien
*** kos op tafels lyk,
en het sodanig hart verloor
op kosse kleur en ruik.

Met 'n bord vol knubbels le die lykie
voor hom , onaangeraak.
Al was kos ook wat kos was daar
het hy te lief vir die droom geraak.

Eerder kwyn en dood verslaan
as om die droom te ruineer.
Eerder dood van honger,
as om hierdie kos , as sulks te eer.

I'M JUST A GIRL'
AND NOT A GRIL;
I TOO HAVE EMOTIONS,
WHICH I FORGET FOR MY CREATIONS............

everyone who passes through the  house of James
plays a part in their second story   story
Nick is not of  the kitchen
but he’s ghosting there

and he tries
he tries   with words  
he tries with dance
he tries so hard we barely see him!

James is thirsty!
and that’s the other story...
He's drying *******
on an old gas cooker

when ‘Phelie   blows in
on a colleague  
o’ Koz Bar leaves  
hi  poising   cat-ready  

on a brown couch
on a couch
that remembers no shape
though she tries

she tries to make an impression
on our blurred nerves too
beginning with alrigh'
which is  hi too   but with feeling  

this hi assumes we know
drama gril and da Richmond crew
And I try to say
I mean I am trying to say

the couch remembers no shape
I have no memory
of drama teachers or  michelle
yelling again darling with feeling this time

then she tells
me what a lonely time
it has been since the…addiction -
michelle poising there

upon the word
like a  Lepidopterist’s pin
on au-then-tic-i-ty -
isn’t it enough that I said it?

now that it’s a dead thing
it spreads its terrible wings
and 'Phelie double drops
her second story    hello  hello

we lean into a kiss  hello
her lips are not dry
though she smokes her mouth un-wet
she tries to say hello

by laughing at
I've given up not-smoking
and we talk
and kiss  a fresh hello

undress hello
touch hello
leading to a breathless hello   hello   hello
and now  I am saying,

*again darling with feeling this time