A Ballad To The Taximan

click clock

wriggle out of the smother before the nose of the golden disc peeps out

warming up the sixteen sitter loaf

 

click clickity clock

that in twenty four seven

dusk to dawn roaring rearing trough the arteries of Tshwane

or pitoli

or whatever one wishes to call this territory

 

clock clickity click clack

feeding the city with labor

and nurturing the flatlands and suburbs with house keep

 

clang clack clickity click clock

and meanwhile you nurse u-r pendulumous moods

as your patrons impose themselves on –u

 

you smile when it rains

sweat when it is summer dry

 

swell

and burst when we outsmart you

lickity split I will trust in you to deliver

me at the appointed

places o’clock

 

© Mmutle Arthur Kgokong 2014

09 May