Went in a fork in the road today.
summer I think as the four way
Salt I flung
Was a prayer for a day in Brighton.
Behind the pier
Copper crust green dome pavilion.
I ate and talked "Brighton Rock"
Arcades metal clinks, lights an
acrid smell of
Vinegar translucent fish-paper.
"Where do you come from?"
they wanted to know
Born on a dream of Orion's belt
Contained within skin
Cape Coloured genes; malay and dutch
Centrifuged with the prosaic intelligence; caucasian
Such a delightful no-one.
Rip polluted melanin from cells.
Strip my profile to a purer strain.
alone a perfect human will remain,
I am the flower girl.