in a sweat of nutmeg i plant my thighs

in a sweat of nutmeg i plant my thighs

it is with a clean look in my eye

that I populate the canvas with vertiginous ash

in an apocalyptic temper

I guard the orphaned words

with a smudge of fennel and rosemary

rumbling is heard in the distance

over blazing gravel I chase the thorns

the oranges bend down to smell the grass

the rocking tractor 
dives into 
the ordinary parade of stringy pity

i shiver

the charcoaled japanese maple

divides the sky into

a sizzling griddle

the over-exposed ladder

draws its legs closer

and sneezes from its peeling paint

the canvas participates in the fornication

sway, swim, screw, grate and usurp the moment

of lawless energy

my phlegmatic suitcase

frenetically practices

to pinch the desiccated sesame seeds

I lie flat on my back

let the open blue sky fabricate

its own panegyric

- - - 

in ‘n sweet van neutmuskaat plant ek my dye

in ‘n sweet van neutmuskaat plant ek my dye

dit is met ‘n skoon kyk in my oë

wat ek die skilderdoek met duiselige as bevolk

in ‘n apokaliptiese gemoedstoestand

bewaak ek die ouerlose woorde

met ‘n smeersel vinkel en roosmaryn

‘n gedreun word gehoor in die afstand

oor brandende gruis jaag ek die dorings

die lemoene buig neer om die gras te ruik

die wiegende trekker

duik in

die ordinêre parade van seningrige bejammering

                                                          

ek ril

die verhoutskoolde japanese esdoring

verdeel die lug in

‘n sputterende rooster

die blootgestelde leer

trek sy bene nader

en nies van sy skilferende verf

die skilderdoek neem deel aan die hoerery

swaai, swem, skroef, rasper en oorweldig die oomblik

van wettelose energie

my flegmatiese reis-tas

oefen freneties

om die uitgedroogde sesame-saadjies te knyp

ek lê plat op my rug

laat die oop blou lug

sy eie lofrede versin