Martyr Poem
Somebody died tonight
Somebody was sorry about something she’d said
Somebody promised never to do it again
Somebody didn’t have the courage to send the letter
Somebody tore the letter up without opening it
Somebody noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks
Somebody whispered that they had found more dead bodies
Somebody wondered how anybody could be so heartless
Somebody asked me if I’d buy her a drink
Somebody begged me to do it again
Somebody got wheeled in to intensive care
Somebody leaned over and wiped the tears that were streaming
down my cheeks
Somebody shouted that they had found more bodies
The Question
I’m in Paris to kill Bill
Dionysos orders beaujolais
I’m very dogmatic about rejecting all forms of dogma
au revoir
The café is filthy
My scrotum sacs shrivel up in distaste
Possibly I will never fuck again
I’m too old
And I’ve got no money
Dionysos grins
He says “in a small, ironic way, you reject the left
hand ideology”
I think he means left wing
I’m not sure
The question is not why are we here?
The question is why are we not here?
Yeah. Before you know it Frankfurters
and monogamy turn you into a
one-dimensional man.
Aryan Kaganof
Johannesburg
South Africa
tel 27-11-4779133
http://www.africanreviewofbooks.com/Reviews/kaganof1.html
http://www.litnet.co.za/fiction/kaganof.asp
http://www.unlikelystories.org/kaganof.html
http://www.thefilmjournal.com/issue5/kerkhof.html
