One of these days

 

One of these days

I’ll grab my chewed-on pen and wrinkled paper
And I’ll find a rundown cheapo bistro
I’ll order fries with a wink of pepper
And I’ll jot down my poem’s intro

I’ll proceed to build on its flesh
Each cursive letter, a silent echo
My phone will beep; “it’s Pesh”
She’s on my Facebook wall like a Gecko

But I’ll stay focused on my love
Because you see, I’ll be eyeing this belle
And I’ll keep returning like Noah’s dove
She’ll be the happy ending to my tale

I’ll gaze at that goddess of a waitress again
As she serves another hungry patron
Her effortless smile will blot out all my pain
I’ll have found my bride; Get me a matron!

Of course, to get her undivided attention
I’ll employ some golden vybe of old
Although I’m not yet eligible for pension
And my rather large head is not yet bald

I’ll ask to walk her back to her home
I’ll ask to carry her leftover burger
I’ll bask in the visage that precedes her dome
I’ll have masked all my fears with a lager

I’ll suggest some nice spots to chill
I’ll call her up and make her laugh
I’ll propose stuff At which I have much skill
Like gym dates for me to show her I’m buff

I’ll propose on the both of my knees
I’ll have a fancy-ass artsy ring box
It’ll be legit, and not mbu ‘Chinese’
I’ll even pay for her to get dreadlocks

We’ll do kwanjula and eat boiled maize
We’ll get married and take pics in Togo
We’ll buy goats for Junior to graze
And he’ll use those fancy sticks of Pogo

Then

I’ll phase out of my glorious haze
And turn my data off with its toggle
Because one of these wondrous days
I hope to write like Philip Matogo