peeked into zed's for klimt and bamboo clue murder weapon, first time there since date with doctor who quit medicine to become airline stewardess. b&b staff memorized our names, we brought our own kombucha to surf, turf burgers. early fifties, twenties father-son pair shared first post-quarantine fling, kissing the ring in reliance mine. new york ninth motel partying reenactor looked of rick danko, pulled up sweater to show stenciled the band despite not knowing big pink. his since-childhood-pilgrim wife poured us dental rinsecup fireball, his son or nephew or boarder - whatever you'd write on the census form - heckled us as john and yoko due to new glasses. post eighty four coffees, "the art of embracing damage" instructions, we drove mummasburg to michaux, hiked rocky knob, ate waitstaffed buffet dinner before olde shoppe, lonely cotton-eyed joe barn dance, not forgotten almond flour triple c. second saturday after gourds'r'us, air hockey pong, we celebrated cunningham falls birthday-in-absentia, perused another kintsugi pamphlet, i poured mouthwash on my palm from the fumes. memorial morn, mouthed "i love you" to lesko's riddlermobile.
ja, this is what i call, 'loafer-skap!'
ukudla kwemi godoyi lokhu [this is food for a dog] - no, a dog wouldn't even piss on this food. ikhabishi, amazambane, ushukela, ipapa, utamatisi endishini eyodwa - ini leyo? [cabbage, potatoes, sugar, porridge, tomatoes in one dish - what is this?]
percy (continuing clipping): aaahh, don't ask me nonsense. i had a barbershop. but the police came with the bulldozers during the soweto riots.
mbongeni. ooohh, 1976?
percy. uh huh. during the times of black power. everything was upside down...(to the invisible interviewer as he enters:) oh, hello, skulu. i'm fine, thanks. and you? (listens.) morena? here, in south africa?
mbongeni. that's nice during o
percy (clipping, talking excitedly): well now, i want him to build me a barbershop in a very big shopping centre in johannesburg city, with white tiles, mirrors all over the walls, and customers with big hair! (the clipper gets caught in mbongeni's hair. he struggles.)
you must make bricks like you make bread and wine long ago. i mean you must make bricks to fall down like manna from heaven -
percy. like you made fried fish!
percy. we have finally captured morena, sir!
mbongeni. you've what? attention! one-two-three-one-two-three-one! (they march to each other, shake hands.) excellent, sergeant! excellent!
percy. thank you, sir.
mbongeni. and now, what's happened to your head, sergeant?
percy. a mad zulu, sir.
mbongeni. a mad zulu?
percy. yes sir. he struck me with the branch of a tree, sir.
mbongeni. a branch of a tree?
percy. they call it a knobkerrie, sir.
mbongeni. ah! when, sergeant?
percy. during operation coronation, sir
my people, as your prime minister i must warn you that we stand alone in the face of total onslaught. our enemies will stop at nothing, even to the extent of sending a cheap communist magician to pose as the morena, and undermine the security of our nation. but let me assure you that this cheap imposter is safely behind bars, from which he cannot fly. peace and security have returned to our lovely land
morena's walking on water to cape town