You could always undress me with your words.
With all this need for reassurance,
I cannot be so sure.
Your new verse stretches and contracts
(neither beside us anymore)
Takes what it wants,
discards what it needs no more.
With all this need for reassurance
I cannot be too sure.
Feet slip while the train clicks.
Takes the plunge.
fallow lands
idle hands –
the farmer entertains
the devil’s work
after questioning
his worth
two words run
incessant
marathons
in his mind:
“bone dry”
the cattle
huddle
herding away
from the
encroaching
drought
the acacia thorns
prick the static air
as the burg wind
lifts their cracking,
boughs forlorn
fire.
is.
imminent.
a long walk
on perforated heels
edges blur, slow-ly…
agony.
thirst.
fields.
stalks of corn, measly mielies,
throw their last
battered brown leaves
upwards
…in the hope of
photosynthesis
scorched earth.
resource policy.
at least wood offers easily
to braai polity
but, that is all…
water-logged
in the search for
blue gold.
