Self portrait of pinachi. 

It probably gathered its magic toungue 

And bided its thoughts whilst dreaming 

Under water Where i became a member 

of easy listening lectures on oil.

.

When no one else spoke for fear of breathing 

We broke sticks to draw our breath 

To make a brush and paint a self portrait of 

Pinachi.

.

Thy Velum piles will not stretch themselves  

and the bones can’t can the buffalo meat

To express my wishes and kind regards.

.

You become the clothes not the previous occupant

To where them.

.

Through the holes I saw the sum total 

Of you moth eaten desires.