Snow joke. Mount Wellington, as seen from Geilston Bay. July 2011.
Ezra's birthday party is due to begin in one hour's time. I hope that by the time this post goes up:
i) the cake is done and dusted,
ii) the party bags are brimming with goodies,
iii) the children are dressed, fed and watered, and,
iv) the sun is out.
But first, a poem...
More Hope More Dust, Kojo Laing
Three Ghanaians have taped goats’ backs, they block the dung.
By the dust-blown koobi stands a chief on one leg,
taped goats grunt and move their dust onto the flat fish,
and to the raised one leg the horn sends a low sympathy
of music, for three Ghanaians plus three equals three
who stand behind the bus and admire the exhaust-pipe
freshly sweet with sugar-cane that was exhaustedly brought
as the goat escapes with a powerful blast, its
own anti-hoarding exercise done through the hide of the rump.
The chief dancing with the other leg expects koobi
in the evening
provided his wives can get round the power of horn music.
The sympathy is higher, lies on the motoway of a tall
but the horn is full of dust, it blows a tactile music,
so that at last three Ghanaians reduce themselves yet
still remain three.
The free goats attack the Ghanaians, the revenge in the hoof
in the dust the koobi turns over to its wrong side, parries
the chiefly leg fed with fish is seriously dancing, it goads
as the bus groans off spreading memories with its exhaust,
there the fighting goes on regardless: see the authority
the Ghanaians bleat, the goats cry,
they change hides but can’t hide each other, even in dust,
the hearts of goats become the hearts of Ghanaians,
the hoof is a fist, the finger is a tail,
and over where the ground steadies them there is a wall:
for out of the fight, out of the bruises
rise man and beast, beast part-man, man part-beast,
spectators scatter, chief is one fin of koobi, hornblower
turns to dust,
the Tamale man is an Accra cat: call him claws.
Millions of Ghanaians bleat with one lip in the mornings,
cry later with the other lip hot,
they frighten the silent watcher with the free mouth,
who sees the changes career about in history,
and who, who
waits patiently for the beast parts to wither,
waits for the bruise and fight
to change to the forward creative thrust: More hope!
Let's knock that high dynamic range down a little. Mount Wellington, as seen from Geilston Bay. July 2011.