Good Evening man, woman, person,

I now have lived a lot of decades. I can tell you something that you do know well. The world, the countries all over the cringing planet, are not, are not developing into a sphere where humanity is held against the throbbing essence of a heart. It is still just a superficial enfigurement of daily pretentiousness to get through days and afternoons before the acid moment of midnight will ask the essential question – Can you care (careo –Latin) to the essential plains of your heart?

No. We do tap-dancing like a kind of poetry. Pretentiousness. Of what humanity would entail. No. We tend to our welfare. Yes, we shriek joy when our beloved ones walk tall. No. The losers are just plain dirt actually. Them to be discarded. By any which way. It is all about us. We are us . Us. Noble wigglement in the process of a life.

But for the rest. The government should take care. We pay taxes to keep our streets clean. We are not to be accused of negligence. Moral negligence. No.

We, are not walking tall at all. We are shameless. We, and me.

My hopeless shame yearns to call the absent gods to responsibility. I protest to the essence of my shady bones.

Wim van der Walt