Tuesday, December 20, 2016


A watchful neighbour might attest,
he is not one to shout
A watchful neighbour might
be hard of hearing

The whisper when it comes
bubbles on the lips, dribbles off the vest
before it has a chance to form,
evolve into a


A maroon snail backfiring
at the traffic stop
A splash
A mollusc sewn with the bends
An atheist grown secular
as a dung beetle at a donkey convention
An ass courting elephant ears

The shout that is stifled at the straw poll,
the bellow that rattles around the waterhole

The roar that is the exquisite fruit
of assembly lines given over to rust
between 3 and 4 AM.