Roy Joseph Cotton – September 11, '53 – March 10, '85

Roy commenced writing poetry during his latter school years. He read prolifically and was passionate about music and was a devote to Bob Dylan. He wrote many plays or "Musical Paintings" as he called them, and was also busy with two works "Multimythicum" and "Girlpools, Whirpools, and other gusts of Twirling Hair". He wrote from the security of a warm, close family in a comfortable Cape Town (South Africa) suburb. Yet most of his huge output of poems reflect a consuming angst. It was an angst which drove him to search for peace throughout books, music, writing, and religion, and it led to ultimate despair. His highly idiosyncratic way with language and the intense pressure of his emotional and spiritual concerns make his poetry compelling and disturbing reading. His untimely death at age of 31 cut short his promising career as a poet.

i
your eyes of cinnamon
mist make me shudder.

ii
so beautiful is the
rudder of your soul
that my rivers keen
with beginnings.

Ill
you are the in-
carnation of sugar
melting in my breath.

iv
the blue cupboard
filled with your
brassieres warm and
tender uplifts
the gloom in
my kitchen

v
your being salvages
my marshmellow cheetahs.