Little red raincoatStripes insidePockets where your treasures hideZippers slitherStuds go clickVelcro fasteners super stickHood fits snuglyRound your faceDrawstrings fasten things in placeKeeps you warm And toasty dryWhen humidity is highLittle red raincoatSplash and playTill the stormclouds blow away
I’m a stripy ginger kitten And my name is Tarik’s Cat. I grew up with Tarik in A noisy crowded flat. I’d zoom around the kitchen While his mum was making bread And when she least expected I ‘Geronimo!’ed her head. I’d lurk behind the furniture, Bite unsuspecting toes. I’d scramble up the curtains And pull threads in favourite clothes. I’d strut along the table Smashing everything in...
Sick people flock to hospital for care, Relief from pain and surgical repair. But lurking in the space known as ‘The Gym’, The physio devises treatments grim. If she must work, her patients should as well: No leniency shown for fainting spells. And pain won’t kill you, yet she might agree That several hundred squats could sting your knee. She’ll have you...
My favourite place is my back yard; There’s lots of things to do there. The only trouble is, you see, Next door’s cat loves to poo there. I may be playing basketball, Slam-dunking with preciseness. My foot collides with something soft Of questionable niceness. A cubby ‘neath the trampoline: There’s nothing that could spoil it Except when kitty set her...
The coat is fire-engine red. Silver buttons march single file from neck to hem, fending off winds that would burrow beneath your clothes like persistent maggots. Otherwise, it’s a Plain Jane. Functional. Here to do its job, no more or less. You want to dress it up with designer scarves, cute hats and stiletto boots – that’s your business. It has enough to do to keep you warm without pandering to...
While you lie sleeping, I inhale your breath And trace my hand elusively on yours. The night, as inescapable as death, Engenders every fear the heart deplores. For once you were the strong and supple tree And I the budding sweetly-scented graft. We bound ourselves together faithfully And bore the fruit of this most tender craft. Throughout the years...
Racism
Blind, ugly
Blames, maims, defames
Propaganda of the unprincipled
Hate
(Cinquain published in Yellow Moon 20, 2006)