The second of the “it” poems, this one deals with how it feels to live in a consumerist society and not (want to) fit into it. Personally I deem it the best of the series, and to this day when randomly asked to quote some poetry (it happens sometimes) it is usually the one I quote. To my great pride, this poem was given a place of honor in the gallery display at the launch of the Creative Commons South-Africa in 2005
And it burns like fire,
scorching your soul
Ripping through your insides
like a triple shot tequila.
Make you cry and make you howl
The road of life is a Moebius strip.
How can you hold on when you haven’t got a grip.
What will remain when theres nothing left to sell
And Malibu Barbie’s gone to hell ?
And it cuts like a broadsword,
Cleaving your dedication.
Spraying your blood
and your brains on the wall.
Make you contemplate the human condition.
And it chills like a glacier,
Freeze-drying your narcissistic ear
Make you dream
Of biker chicks in leather.
Make you chase the road to nowhere