Saturday 31 October 2009

Table Mountain Capetown

Your uphill path isn’t haunted - even

baseball caps on hikers comfort you


until an unusualness


when something warm and bony

gets on my back, reaches and squeezes

my frightened wrist until

I let go,

alarmed, of my chocolate

bar and the skeleton creature whoops and

springs baboon

to the fallen sweet and grinningly turns,

devours in dust,


chirruping


and there’s horror

isn’t there?

when you panic

suddenly

gotten onto

from behind

by a grinning

gripping

carcass

silently

from behind


now isn’t there?

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