346 South Africa, writing, creativity, imaginatipn, shebeen, Wallace Stevens

AT THE SHEBEEN

I took Wallace Stevens
down to the Shebeen

we dined
on braised cow’s head
and a selection
of South African beers

all of this chased down
with tub-fulls of
salted caramel ice cream

throughout this novel experience
I felt I could detect things whirring
in that machine-like faultlessly
poetic brain

something afoot behind
those placid eyes
finely meshed, sublimely
purposeful

some I dream, gut-feeling,
but also there
in heart
of hearts

he will real all this off
by way of a special poem
cleverly infected
in language
flirting with becoming
totally impenetrable to me.