For my brother

The wheat fields are ever so lasting

In the Eastern Cape

Stopping for breathers in the afternoon sun

Shown only car fumed slow motion replay sonnets

Of lacklustre vomit-strewn vacation hunting folk

Who lie to themselves that they are having a good

Time

I want to vacate the premises and show the one and only

My smertain smile, my smile of smertation and smoking-hot

Love.

 

I will not be then and there the only left-over meal in the street

I will do unto the other one what was done before he was there

That which gives one the satisfaction of being in the other and the other

Sundry matter, the hunt for the red October of all men, the saint of all being

The Joe to your Name, only John the Baptist himself

Who named me Jesus.

Copyright B  Saunders 2016