Essentially There Is Nothing Wrong I am not a he. I am not a she. We are many. We are it.

So all the detectives and doctors say that interview him.
They suspect though.
But what can they prove? What do they know?

Sometimes he wants to forget to breathe. To suffocate himself.
And then again feels to give them the right answers.
Then they will hear what they want to hear.

For instance: Giggling in their faces he could explain that at midnight he hears the devil scratching on his tin roof:

He is looking for a way in.

Then again, he may confess. Or maybe he can reveal his path of bliss to Nirvana.
(They jot down, I am smiling.)

He attempts to cry. He shakes dryly. They let him go.
Imbeciles!
They do not grasp I am not a he or a she.
I am beyond that. I am many.
We are it.
Beneficial and bad.

She is so pretty. Her bloodless face, pale lips and small breasts.
Oyster closed.
He enjoys bathing her, but the smell is getting stronger.
The child’s corpse is beautiful.
He combs her hair.


Pedro Vorster is a Namibian poet, and visual artist. He has worked in the telecommunications, publishing, and civil service fields. His satirical essays were published in a collection called Headfull by Macmillan in 2012. Pedro has won numerous prizes for his photography and painting and has works in the Namibian National Art Gallery’s permanent collection as well as other galleries in Scotland, Germany, and the World Bank Seattle.

Image: Marcin Czerniawski on Unsplash