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.

S.A.

this is the land
of golden excreta,
here monkeys rule,
glazed donkeys
concoct laws,
fat mermaids squash
their tits into pools,
barebacked mamas
worship soapsuds,
the cross is a
nice piece of wood,
strangle your neighbour
before he spies
your new video set,
the market is filled
with slaves: these are
there for the sheer
hell of the moon!

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