The serpent licks the air

with her tongue

which is like a

heat-seeking missile

with a coded launch-code

tracking the rodent

that has buried itself

beneath the earth’s surface,

deeper than the secrets

of a promiscuous housewife

The spider launches her assault

in the absence of the prey

lacing the later crime-scene

with her “lassos”, if you will

The pre-cognizance that allows her

not to be

the only (black) widow.

The cheetah pierces the wind

with the pace that

places the measurement of time


the backseat with groceries,

in the trunk with tools

or in the rvm

that reflects with the other fools.

Her Majesty, the queen of cats

leaves her seat but,

doesn’t descend from her thrown

The heavens randomly punctuate with thunder,

unable to contain the excitement

at her very gait

Those who consent

to her queenship follow keenly

as she poises 

to quiet noises of

‘life, as I fall to my knees

They all gorge simultaneously,

deserting the customs

of hierarchical structure.

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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" ☕