May
Visa issues, such a waste of my time
I could be putting this energy into trying to rhyme
Instead I'm floundering, looking for an option
A new strategy that I can take into adoption
I was careless and reckless and now I must think
There will be a loophole, a backdoor, a chink
The show must go on, this stone is still rolling
I will find a way, there can be no consoling
Ladies Night at the bar, let's put on a dress
Stuff two balloons down the front, oh yes
Add a luscious green wig to top off the attire
If I said I didn't enjoy it, I'd be a liar
A chance to flaunt the hourglass figure
Dancing on through the background snigger
This is a once a week affair, and always a highlight
I've gotta enjoy this zaniness before I take flight
The mountains around act like the sides of a pan
Cooking an eclectic human bean mixture out of the can
We all pour in, looking for such different things
I came for adventure and to spread the metaphorical wings
Some have come to escape the shackles of home
And to cut a new path or simply just roam
I see bits of myself in each of these wondering beans
Get yourself to Cusco one day if you have the means
My turn to cook for the weekly staff lunch
This was to be no ordinary afternoon munch
Under the guidance of Marit, we whipped up a 'Brad Thai'
A Phad Thai with a twist - invented by some Brad guy
We undersold on the portions, but got no complaint
In fact the compliments were lathered without restraint
'The best staff lunch yet' - I heard thrown about
Brad will hear from me without a doubt
Poems to me were always birthday wishes
To family - making quips about doing the dishes
Or jibes at my mum's incessant dismay
With the restaurant table allocated to her that day
Or my brother's exploits with women of late
Or my dad's latest golf swing update
Or the endlessly peculiar path my sister takes
To get to the point she is trying to make
The rain drops chase me, ever-closer still
They fall short, clanging the window sill
Some eternal otherness framed within the skylight
Racing against the oncoming night
It always strikes me, the constant flow
Like a waterfall - where does it all go?
I lie underneath, dreaming, in awe
As the pitter patter turns into a downpour
A man, about my age, pulled up a chair
We got talking on what he was doing here
He had just finished his mandatory service
With the Israeli army - I asked was he nervous
He said in your country, military is a choice
You're not protecting your family, your freedom, your voice
But in Israel the military life is more than a career
You don't fight for promotion, you fight fear
Crashing and banging outside my window
Jousting in the sky, scaring a nearby gringo
Are the eternal fireworks of this buzzing city
But I look up with a mixture of amusement and pity
Most of the time, the fireworks are solely sound
No colour, just bangs that shake the ground
Just another intriguing Peruvian way
It certainly makes for a lively day
Names are important, especially when
The person has to repeat theirs again
At that point surely their name would stick
But no, you're standing their like a dick
Hey Ryan. Oh hey there... bro
Funnily enough the uncertainty shows
Now it's too late, 'bro' is their official name
You've only got yourself to blame
A full day of cooking, well that was a first
I mean sure I dabble, but only in bursts
The ensemble began with a toasted cheese snack
Then onto the honey soy ginger triple attack
'Twas a solid stir-fry, with some tasty brown rice
Sweet as your landlady with just a hint of spice
If that didn't make your lips violently tremble
Then picture the brownie that I proceeded to assemble
Today I don't feel like writing at all
Cloudy, swirly thoughts in free fall
I think I should address the crux of the matter
My poetic quest started off as a platter
A buffet of ideas that could be sampled at will
But the bloating set in, and I've eaten my fill
It's not the parts that matter, but the final sum
This too shall pass, another spark will come
Peruvian classic sandwich, it's so damn classic
It seems so wise, like it's pre-Jurassic
If you're not eating it every day you're not doing it right
The Milhouse cooks have their work cut out tonight
A tender strip of breast cupped between two crisp slices
Nestled amongst salad and a few delicate spices
It packs a punch alright, you'll be gasping for more
I can't wait to see what the next Peruvian classic has in store
As it happens the Peruvian pipes are rather narrow
They contain a secret that is likely to harrow
After business is done and wiping complete
The toilet paper gets tossed in the trash by your feet
Tossed in the trash! Get outa here - I said
That ain't right and proceeded to tread
Recklessly, and flushed the paper anyway
Shit, the toilet was blocked to my dismay
Hair journal one: the sides are annoying
They hug the face, often employing
A bowl-like shape that could house a meal
Hats are necessary at this stage I feel
The plan is to grow the top first of all
You've gotta learn to roll before you can crawl
The infamous awkward stage will come
Harder to get through than an All Black scrum
The cajon at first glance appears to be simply a box
Sitting there stoic and sturdy as an ox
How about you go sit on it, give it a tap
It's a drum set you see, you fell in the trap
You didn't think a box could lay down such beats
To make a crowd ooh and ahh in the streets
It has a kick and a snare and all sorts of tones
They chop and change like a pack of hormones
Just over 2 months ago I was leaving home
With a little blue pack and places to roam
First stop was a family and an overgrown rat
While I taught little rascals about this and that
Then a night out lead to work at a bar
Where I've acquired more than just a dodgy guitar
Friends that party, friends that snooze
Friends that I'm afraid to lose
The nurses provide a good bouncing board
For my mangled sentences to be explored
It's not like I'm using normal words here
Describing an itchy arse might be a translator's worst fear
But we're getting through it, the nurses and I
If I found out what I've been saying I would probably cry
The food's edible, the view is an absolute treat
And what's more! I have my own ensuite
An itchy arse found me in a hospital bed
Thus far I've been very well fed
I feel like I've regressed in age
A nurse rubbing my bottom as I try not engage
24 going on 24 months
I feel I should be communicating in crying or grunts
The meds leave me groggy and increasingly queasy
Tonight I know that sleep won't come easy
Tips are sexy, the tip jar says
As a volunteer it certainly pays
To flaunt the jar throughout the night
Which means playing Backstreet Boys despite
The sheer horror; bite your tongue
They're paying customers, and besides it's fun
Who doesn't love a bit of bromantic grooving
The sultry tones are rather soothing
A day off from work so we became museum fanatics
Huffing and puffing around like a bunch of asthmatics
First stop, the chocolate museum for some light browsing
The sight of so many sweet choices was a little arousing
I was deeply partial to anything involving chilli
The marriage of spice and sweetness made me feel a bit silly
Oh shit, I forgot to mention the coffee museum
It was not quite as good but still go and see 'em