We gonna need a microscope

to look into the diabolical ways

of the opposite so-called “fairer sex,”

and what exactly viled

her insufficient excuse of a heart

which, no doubt

escaped the bars of her ribcage

and is probably somewhere

catching a -6 degree below freezing temperature

We gonna need a microscope

to seek out the hope

we used to have for “love,”

and living happily ever after

the shit we now

look back on

with uncontrollable laughter

Not only because love is a jest

but we were diligently

on the straight and narrow

target on our chest

for cupid’s arrow

and lasses we fancied lioness…

… the other left me 

at the door with the key

Man can be trash

some can be trash-cans

which forcefully stomach female faeces

they know nothing about

Its unpopular,

the minority report without the microscope.

Lionesses devoured our bones and marrow

for the perfect irony

We’re gonna need a microscope here

Peculiar’s heritage and dispensation

which is either lost or delayed

like a problematic pension pay-out

needs to be sought after.

The search is set

but Ph D himself

is ghosting around inanimately

like a vagabond spirit

and we can’t search

for PHD without Ph D himself in it

We need him front and centre

Unlike the letter he sent her

when he was trying

to be sentimental

and all that lexical prowess

proved to be a tad  esoteric

Natasha, the story of my life

Odette, my synechdoche.

One sifted me like wheat.

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Peculiar "Ph D" Khumalo, born and bred (and buttered) in White City, Soweto, the liveliest township in Africa in 1987. Attended Boarding School at Bophelo Impilo and Matriculated in 2007. While his erudite endeavours do not venture beyond Matric, he had long been told he had a way with words, a hype he still has a hard time believing. "Of all the pleasures of life, I relishes nothing more than a conversation over coffee" ☕