SOUTH AFRICANS LOVE THEM
A deep rural single mother
keeps on keeping on.
Loses husband, loses livelihood.
Keeps on keeping on.
TAXI SAYS: WHEN DAYS ARE DARK FRIENDS ARE FEW
Working girl, cornered by a baby on her back.
An African sun blazes down.
She flashes her shocking pink studded business card
at backstreet motorists.
TAXI SAYS: YOU’RE SIMPLY THE BEST BABY & LOVERS TOURS
A boy bounces to and fro’ between
bullies behind school bars
and Sleeping Beauty at home.
He learns to fit in nowhere and anywhere.
TAXI SAYS: MOTLAUNG TOURS UNLIMITED PROHIBITED BY OCEANS ONLY. WHY NOT
Dark madonna and bright brown-eyed baby.
Working sandstone corner, Zastron street.
They want exactly two Rand ten.
I open my hand for seven blue sweets.
TAXI SAYS: WHAT GO SURROUND COME SURROUND
Moon faced adolescent. Dusty streets.
Walks past barefoot boys’ coloured kites
that fly to the blue, into the scorching sun of her misery …
TAXI SAYS: LET THE TRUTH BE TOLD YES GOD IS GOOD
… “The library is too far,” her mother says. “I’ll keep her in the dark.”
Later, Ms Moon sells her smile from shack to shack.
Wilting after every trick.
Yearning ‘til her last young breath
for all the love she will never give.
TAXI SAYS: OUR LAND IS IN PIECES VOTE FOR PEACE
Sandwich man walks thirteen kilometers, every day
of his momentary life, to sustain his name and collect some stuff.
If he is lucky in the dead of winter –
scalding comfort of leftover minestrone.
TAXI SAYS: THE HUNTER BECAME THE HUNTED
A clown without a circus lies down every day
at a quarter past noon on a single bed with a leafy view.
Anxious arousal from his journey into dreams
where he begged for canvas patches for his wobbly marquee.
TAXI SAYS: DON’T MISS ME BABY AND BEHOLD THY CREATOR … BOOTIFULLY
An average office worker and drooling cyber troll
downloads profile pics of strangers.
Erecting monuments as he mourns her
and all she will never give to him.
TAXI SAYS: I LEARNED TO DRIVE ON MY PLAYSTATION
A modern day dark Huck Finn
disappears into black rivers, daily.
Diving in, searching for himself, I think.
Finding something smoky and threatening.
Transferred to a place with more structure
where, for a moment, he is out of his depth.
TAXI SAYS: DON’T MISS ME, ANGEL TIME … OH SO CUTILICIOUS
Two recycling travelers park their trolleys halfway down a hill.
Middle class tarred fields today produced a healthy yield
of aluminium can and plastic PET.
Friends, colleagues, marathon men.
Admiring the trashy view, sharing yesterday’s pap.
TAXI SAYS: SERVICED BY QUANTUM MECHANICS