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Poetry

projecting

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anonymous man standing behind glass

projecting

it is madness to live
without joy
and a whole host

of other things –
sneakers flipped on
slipped into jacket

to join festivities
of the night serene –
plodding through

sands of Sanchaba,
tree lined baobabs
don’t look the same

dangling
from a steel blue sky –
humble corruption

draws me in – i hear
reggae music thumping
the stars twinkling

i’ve been to every
club enticing on
this strip…..

at last i see
neon lights flashing
before me –

a tall lady draws
her compound gate
quietly shut

mini skirt immediate
long legs stabled
by stiletto heels

plaited hair fine
her perfume sharp,
insignificant

i brush past her
and she asked:
are you heading to

the throbbing scene?
i will stroll with you,
the senses kick in

(secretly so)

poem: projecting II

Skendong

Author Skendong

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