Moments of Clarity

Moments Of Clarity

Rummaging through my hand-written collection of poems recently, I discovered this funny looking piece of paper. I nearly threw it away, had it not been for my concerning fondness of clutter, I would have been without another poem.

In 2005, when I worked as a godknowswhat at a clothing retailer in the city centre of East London (South Africa), I wrote a handful of poems on till slip paper. I am not sure if my boss knew that I was pilfering the paper, if not, he’ll know soon enough.
Some days, as a godknowswhat in the store, I would find myself bored witless.

There would be no customers to help as a store assistant. There would be no new arrival of stock for receiving and storage. There would be no backlog of old stock that needed to be priced and tagged and so I would find myself perched on the all-seeing eye of the cashiers (as sometimes I would help pack and at other times work the till), looking as appetising as a piece of meat in the presence of vegetarians.
It was during these moments that I would let loose the pirate within, and loot some till slip paper.

On one of these glorious days I wrote this:

”…sexually frustrated husbands

Who work overtime to afford

Their secret activities of dining

With unavailable prostitute-bearing,

High-dress wearing and low-status women

Only to undress their civilities and

Dine on their over-moisturised consciences

To soothe their nights out on the town

Sinking into orgasmic night clubs

With bright, blood-pulsing rainbow lights and

Pair up with dark souls that

Cover themselves with branded suits that

Scream of child-labour lawsuits

Dressed as friendly envelopes

Delivered by idle government officials

Who drive in fraudulent-deal SUV’s

And all-terrain, out the border 4X4’s…”

- © The Dead Awakened (2005) – an extract

Namaste.