Learned that many of my forbears, the
pioneers, had been killed in Natal 1836*
my sister has unpacked magazines on
it her shop at the truck stop for drivers
on their way to Zimbabwe
The books were picked up hungrily, as
if more popular than her meringue cake;
this scared Quasimodo away - and I find
suddenly I am an enthusiast myself for
learning about those pioneers
Entering South Africa and delighted with
the Truck Stop Tuck Shop, André Rieu's
orchestra sparkling in my ears, the hydro-
agricultural document about constructing
dams reaching its apex, the human phase
Where man-hours are calculated, I am not
building the dam anymore, what a relief, I
can breathe - with a weekend ahead, life
suddenly seems quite wonderful - the
dance of love, the tango Olé Guapa
Now taking centre-stage…
1836* There is a new series on Facebook
where the trials and tribulations of the
Pioneers are presented as personal
Facebook accounts under the names
Piet Retief and Dingane, Ulrike my
colleague forwarded the information
pioneers, had been killed in Natal 1836*
my sister has unpacked magazines on
it her shop at the truck stop for drivers
on their way to Zimbabwe
The books were picked up hungrily, as
if more popular than her meringue cake;
this scared Quasimodo away - and I find
suddenly I am an enthusiast myself for
learning about those pioneers
Entering South Africa and delighted with
the Truck Stop Tuck Shop, André Rieu's
orchestra sparkling in my ears, the hydro-
agricultural document about constructing
dams reaching its apex, the human phase
Where man-hours are calculated, I am not
building the dam anymore, what a relief, I
can breathe - with a weekend ahead, life
suddenly seems quite wonderful - the
dance of love, the tango Olé Guapa
Now taking centre-stage…
1836* There is a new series on Facebook
where the trials and tribulations of the
Pioneers are presented as personal
Facebook accounts under the names
Piet Retief and Dingane, Ulrike my
colleague forwarded the information
[Previous diary entry:]
Oh dear, Quasimodo came to work today,
the hunchback too big for my chair, the
shoulders broad and malformed, the eyes
unfocused and mind scrambled by rambles
through the towers and tops of Notre Dame
and hearing impaired by the bells he has to
keep ringing at all times
Quasimodo didn’t make his presence felt until
he suddenly surfaced as I looked in the mirror
wondering who was this person inhabiting my
mind today, by the way Quasimodo affected
my appearance I recognised him and wished
he would go away, but here he sits in my place,
refusing to talk to anyone
As I insist he must be friendly - he threatens to
crinkle my face if I should bother him anymore
he has already consumed breakfast and lunch
and now he is looking for vengeance because
I have nothing else to feed him and he is bored
with existence as nothing is happening and this
will continue all day…
Diary Notes Friday 22 February 2013
Diary Notes Friday 22 February 2013
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