Of course, I’m a poet,
For now, I’m sitting on the edge of a chair,
Waiting for a strange to come to provoke me,
I know most of you watch tv,
I wont pierce you but,
My poem will stalk you.
Otherwise I know a bird called Stork,
It feed on worms.
I also know wild ravens,
They feed on maggots.
Let’s leave this writing here for now.
We’ll get back to it after my knife,
Has sliced through a sizzling piece of meat.
Mind you, National Braai Day has passed me by,
Before I turn into a liar-pathological,
I say unto you, It’s logical for you and I to first,
try to get to know each other better.