Ile aud cerfs

Ile aux Cerfs



There a picture in of Ile aux Cerfs
Somewhere in my little miserable office
Always looking back at me
With a smile
Paille en Queue land
Sugarcane land
Everyone who passes by, 'wows at it'
I am proud of it,
"My' little exotic island, "my" Ile aux cerfs


It is a scam isn`t it ?
Think about it.
Truly it is a gross lie


I don`t give a fuck about exotism
For i know nothing is exotic
Exotic is about buying and selling
Prostitution is a better word
I am selling myself and my source
To make myself acceptable to them
A product of some far away fairy land
Where the sand is golden and the water is bleu azure
Where all we do is laze around and get our
Arses oiled under umbrellas
I am protecting myself from any impurity
That the name Africa furnishes
I just want to be a blue eyed island boy
Nothing else,
Just an exotic artifact


Yet it is all a scam
I will walk to the poster,
Bring it down
No more
Sand and sea
Breasts and arses


I want to be African
I want some responsibility
Give it to me Destiny !
For it looks to me
That nothing truly belongs to us
my poor little Mauritius Inc

This one is about

This one is about

No this poem will
Be a vast emptiness
No convolutions,
No iterations,
No slimy words,
Or equations to show
How smart i think i am

No this poem will
Not be an expensive car,
Just a bicycle
Grey and simple,
Not red

No this poem is
Not about formulas or anger,
Not about erotism and darkness
Or politics and death

It is about simple lines
Like, "hmm..I don`t know"…
The meaning of this coming or going..
The va et vient of lives…..I don`t know

This poem is about this lost line
No this poem is not about
Qasidas, ghazals and metered lines,
Confusion, mazes, triangles

This poem is about this very one old line,
That I whisper in your ears:
"I love you".
I love you, here you go
I said it.
Although I know in
The Grand scheme of things
It is not worth very much.

I love you.

- Rattan