Life In That Noisy Place (Rev.)

*
I freeze in a dark cavern of this house
my room the black hole of Kalkutta
swallowing me, my jeans icy against
skin, the sunroom only being bright

but there’s no room for me and a book to
read, my beloved sun weak, like an old man
losing his powers, I cannot think
how did it come to this?

Coldness of this house threatens, I want
to run and hide at work, legs not strong
enough to carry me, a prisoner feeling weak
only solution is to dream –

Of brilliant sun in summertime, any dream
any wonderful fantasy, anything to escape
bleakness of today, the trenches infinitely
more interesting, with their casualties

Voices that sing inappropriately – spirituals
and kwaito music, though I bristle in my seat,
I love energy, optimism, a voice calling “Ntsoaki”
and cell phones ringing

Activities outlawed, we must live in quiet
solitude, a nunnery – luckily my colleagues
don’t agree and no amount of scolding can tame
their spirits, I plug a headset into my ears

When I need to concentrate - life in that noisy place
is fun and games creating a feeling of infinite grace!
*