Frozen On The Threshold [rev.] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Our restlessly xenophobic Security Head locked
my drawers - that was in the office where he can
neither prevent nor solve crimes - so he justifies
his existence by victimising easy prey like me, a
mere language practitioner. Like our police, who,

Scared of real crime, persecute private citizens
for minor offences while taking bribes - already
recruited by the big, bad guys; like government
departments where chiefs pocket public money,
order little bureaucrats to account for each cent

Cutting funds for service provision - then go off
spending the now available money on meeting
and eating - all kinds of hedonistic fun and not
heeding a need for strict stoicism and spartan
sacrifice - only ever experiencing immediate

Gratification of sensory desires, so any future
must take care of itself while they live in super-
large Zen-Buddhism's now; Heidegger dancing
for joy to see how the African continent applies
Phenomenology - little did he realise Africa

Would be his most devoted fan in the end - and
Nietzsche must be holding lectures in the sky
about his Wille Zur Macht being a guideline for
South Africa, the youngest imitation democracy,
where the African locusts are happily united in

Appropriating and destroying everything created
& usurped by Colonial Powers; Africa's purpose
is a return to their roots in a continuous present
tense, living an eternal Arab Spring that never
blooms into a Democratic African Summer - so

The Tibetan Prayer Wheels can turn adding to a
reservoir of time while Africa stays frozen on the
threshold of life in an insatiable desire to devour
itself before anyone else can do it to them again

[29 September 2014]