when did i join the circus, ma’ma?

we live in such stirring and creative times

how can i write one-dimensional poems?

first let us bring in a rousing symphony orchestra and

winds sweeping around the highest peaks of

the Great Mountains as a soundtrack

then start writing verses imbued with the breath of grandiose statements

laced with the declamatorics of state of the nation addresses

it can’t be called a poem if there is no drum and bass

beating through its buttocks

it requires william kentridge charcoal drawings

a company of opera singers

for their resounding vocal cords are just the thing

and seeing that we are going for drama

have the stanzas adorned with

spectacular costumes and headdresses

and of all things DO NOT read it sitting down

incantate it with the voice of an inspirational speaker

a mix of voices of a president, a toast (coetzer) master, a rapper,

‘n kaapsevlakte ou and a shakespeare actress

no time for looking down on any papers

that is just distracting frippery

each word needs to be memorised into your skin

(but not to worry: in case of lapse, a prompter will mouth your words)

AND remember: lots of arm movement

you can only go on if you have groupies in

the form of likers, tweeters,

instagrammers, hashtaggers and share-holders

DO NOT forget your audience from afar

always keen to be cyber-rubbing-shoulders with you

AND a have-to-have is your entourage of photographers and videographers

that record your every syllable and frown

(note to editor: zooming in with slow motion on that sweat droplet

on the upper lip and bring in stills in vintage colours, otherwise no go)

and stating the obvious, we will hire that very bearded dude

who adjusts the height of your mic

keeps your drink and nerves stirred but not shaken

and gives you a hirsute kiss just before you utter your first syllable

when the cue is given turn up the volume of

that symphony orchestra and whirling winds around

the high peaks of your metaphors

throw in a singing line and dance step or two

you will be the coolest thing out

who wants the fine sensibilities of quiet metaphors

if you can join the 21^st century circus?!

...and all this time you thought you were doing poetry?!