Economics, Literature and Scepticism

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I am a PhD student in Economics. I am originally from South Africa and plan to return there after my PhD. I completed my M. Comm in Economics and my MA In Creative Writing (Poetry) at the University of Cape Town, where I worked as a lecturer before starting my PhD.

Friday, April 14, 2006

The Continuity of Contrivance

Posted by Simon Halliday | Friday, April 14, 2006 | Category: |

Arrivals 08.04.06


You are sharpened for me

in the distances that

separate us


although threatened by the

habits of my myopia

you resisted


the inclement weather of

your arrivals and departures

is shuddering


I hope it rains so that we can

stay indoors and I shall

look at you closely


African Revolutions 08.04.06


It is startling

you know

to see the formation

of it to


see its structure

spring up and

around me:

burgeoning civility


it is in the habits of

words their

seemingly instinctive

slip-slop


movements from the

mouths and

hands of mayors, MECs

and presidents


there is a photo of a

handshake between a white

man and a black man

another with


the hands of two

black men clenched in

'Comradeship' (pat

on the back strong)


it's about histories I'm

told, that they're constructed

and aided and abetted

by the evility


of Europeans who stole from

us Egyptian heritages

or in the momentous

let-downs of colonials


who colonised, sucked

dry and left messes

of institutions and hazards

of politics


but the limelight, green and

brown as it should be,

has yet to fall at

the feet of


any who accept guilt, or

at least responsibility

for to do such would be

truly revolutionary


and no one really

wants to start

yet another

African Revolution.


Leather Cuff 08.04.06


I carry you in the

oddment of velcro

attachment


you slip off quite easily

the rip/tear of

detachment


had it always been

that easy for us

we may


have left each other

in slightly less

disarray


Translation 11.04.06



translate the moment:

take the language of it

the commentary, it is

all contained, inherently

worded the structure

contained



the aphorism of it

is in the explanation

the interpreted moments

translated for you

principled and hoped

formal, hoped complete



but the missing: the

apothegm - the

completeness is flawed

the circle slashed and gutted

in its formality, its attempted

grace – causelessly



imperfect and its

arisen nature and I

incapable of translating

this: these times, these

gonenesses these missings

these nows



Taken 11.04.06


delved and dug

out the thrown soil

of that which

so sustained me


I was beneath it, held

under the earth

roots lifelong deep

and reclaiming water


this is the ideal, taking,

feeding off of the earth

quenching the dry

landscapes, dusted


as they are with but

the raindrops of my

consciousness, seen as

I am the morning dew


falling off of the grass

bodies and reentering

the earth as I would setting

roots down once more


Chromatic 13.04.06


and the rush of it through my veins and

blurred pumping in my head


and the idea or persuasion of stars

in my bloodshot eyes


“it's mounting you know the tension

the excitement of how people are

reacting to it, the meaning of all

these people, the famed and acclaimed

moving around in our spaces

we see them and know we

can ultimately be like them”


and it's the lights, the mirrors the fuck-off

fast-moving shiny cars


and the breast implants the good ones that

actually look touch-them-real


“I saw her you know, the red-head

with those gorgeous breasts and that

CK dress, but for the Donna Karan watch

she would have looked really, so

awfully damn good, the watch should've

been Cartier you know and maybe

the shoes by someone better and that

fragrance she was wearing...”


and I see them waving and I wave back 'cos

that's what you have to do


and the shit-skew walk and credit card credit

card jack-lime strong babe


“but I'm not sure if he's straight of

if he is not, but he dated that

girl, you know the model, and she

was highly sexed (I know) and

he wouldn't have pulled it off if

he were gay, but maybe he likes

that stuff too much and I always see

him with that guy you know...”


and it's the short skirts, the ones the 12 year olds

are wearing sweetie


and the hair back tight and Beyoncé front curl

and the tight black so-80s retro


“and the mirrors sweetie, they're

fucking everywhere, it makes you

feel narcisississitisic... vain you

know, but ok really, because we're

hot and other people want to see

us like this and it makes it easier to

make sure that we're hot and not

looking like something dragged in”


and, truth be told, I couldn't give a shit

about it anymore.



I observe a Picasso 13.04.06


the idea of three people

beneath the idea

of a tree


neither a complete

concept nor an

independent one


there are three figures

sturdy, brown and

weighty


but they are the concepts

of people, the imagined,

the gone


beneath a mark of nature

that neither resists

nor deplores


its changed state, its denial

or its restructured

immanence


mostly, what disturbs me is I how

am stirred by three figures

beneath a tree


Savanna 11-14.04.06


windswept grasses on

the plateaux, baobabs

grown from the deepness

of waters that run beneath


the scratchy tarmac on

bare feet, buildings

erected from the dirt

the dusts and sinews of


rain-warmed rivers

tumbling into the sewers

of my dreams and beneath

bridges arcing over


what is my mind

what is this loam

what is this land

that is my home


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