Retro architecture
hip, but forty years
late and musty
crumbling concrete,
square root of antiquity;
monthendrushdawnstheday
shelvesbulging with stuff;
bolts of brightfabric
parotted and exoticked beyond
a dusty bushveld experience,
soaps and sanitaries, cheap clothing
and floridfrocks, loadsofbrownbread,
lanternwicksbythemetre
binspiled with
staplegrains;
mealie-meal and stickygoldensugar,
maltcloudschoking
the humidair
mopani worms, sundried
in a grimmace of potent protein
greycast-iron three-legged pots,
fat-tackie bicycles with
optional mirrors and bells,
44 gallondrumsof
cookingoil and paraffin -
cutting a scalpel-line through
the nostrils
up on all eightyears of tippy-toe
i peer over the expansive
counterplain,
amassedeagerfaces awaiting their
turn
acocoaveneeroffaces
only skindeep
patiently a little closer to service
sweatynotes dispensed from bra’s
meagrecoins gently squeezed by
untying the corners of a spent cloth
-
so pastoralscene continues
exchanges of warmgreetingsliterally,
shinynewgoods and bloodedcash
andthenheappears:
Mr. nonamebrandvanillaflavour
strutsin -
cocoamass melts to subservience,
a sterileservile sundae of apology
for being there, no, for being
shufflingoutofthewayforgreatbrashsuperiority
