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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
December 31, 2004
Landlocked octopus in more home's than a Godzilla movie. More welcome than a dentist. Lasts longer than a city when empty. Coke by *futilitarian
Literature Text
Still noon in the paddy fields
in Kerala, we sank a well
to stem the flow of desert,
but came up smelling of dust.
Watched rice plants wither as the slow sun
silenced resolve in angry glare,
and warm dry gusts scattered
hope to the four corners.
In Palakkad, an empty street, sold
to ten million-dollar-a-day death,
men nurse wounds and children.
The women have gone to find water-
when the supply runs altogether dry,
we may find out how to swallow
the dust. Or our pride. Lesson taught,
we shall learn to drink coke.
Still noon in the baking heat
within the walled compound, we
stand around on wounded feet
spreading slurry on the ground.
So here, at least, is water
(to dampen a capital purse)
So here we earn our living -
a litre a day (could be worse).
Outside, the world is barren,
the earth is cracked and bare.
As boreholes tap our reservoirs
at last we’ve learnt to share.
So desert soil is progress,
and bitter stench is joy.
Infected feet dance to the beat
of the jingle writer’s bitter-sweet
irrigation for the soul.
in Kerala, we sank a well
to stem the flow of desert,
but came up smelling of dust.
Watched rice plants wither as the slow sun
silenced resolve in angry glare,
and warm dry gusts scattered
hope to the four corners.
In Palakkad, an empty street, sold
to ten million-dollar-a-day death,
men nurse wounds and children.
The women have gone to find water-
when the supply runs altogether dry,
we may find out how to swallow
the dust. Or our pride. Lesson taught,
we shall learn to drink coke.
Still noon in the baking heat
within the walled compound, we
stand around on wounded feet
spreading slurry on the ground.
So here, at least, is water
(to dampen a capital purse)
So here we earn our living -
a litre a day (could be worse).
Outside, the world is barren,
the earth is cracked and bare.
As boreholes tap our reservoirs
at last we’ve learnt to share.
So desert soil is progress,
and bitter stench is joy.
Infected feet dance to the beat
of the jingle writer’s bitter-sweet
irrigation for the soul.
Literature
A Sonnet Call
No anger fills me, though i'm rather pissed
as here I stand and testify with drawl
(by stand I mean I'm propped against a wall—
I conquered seven vodkas with a twist).
My call is for a woman I once kissed;
the girl back at the bar that stopped the brawl
and told me that I had one lovely call!
As firm as metal clasped around my wrist,
her love has grasped my heart and won't let go.
My lawyer said I should not say a word,
but I must tell the world about this treat!
Inebriated glee from head to toe
that frees my heart and makes my vision blurred…
oh officer, you make my life complete.
Literature
vanilla latte
woe is me
the blind man mumbles
as he cracks his cane
crisply on the concrete
crack crack
the cane won't protect him from
the busy mack truck (crack crack)
the fervent cyclist (crack crack)
or even the zealous witness (crack crack
oh hello have you found your lord today?)
it will protect him from
the businessman, walking, dressed and thin
the blind man cracks him on the shin
Oh, pardon me.
(Fuckin' blind bast...) how u doin'
sootman?
What did
you say?
how u doin'
sootman?
FFFine...
i'd li
Literature
Chocolate Covered Rodents
My momma always said,
"Life's like a box of chocolates,
you never know what you're gonna get."
and I always used to say,
"Momma, what was life like
before they put chocolate in boxes?"
About that time there was this little girl.
In a strawberry cream square
she found the skull of a rat.
It must have snuck through the clockwork
of that factory,
the one up on the edge of town
where the squatters get high now.
Her neighbours said that she cried
all night for weeks on end.
They say that's what drove her mother out.
And her teachers were so concerned
they held a meeting to discuss
the little girl's paintings
of chocolate-cover
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People living in crappy conditions deserve Coke