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.

RESTAURANT

Black candles ignite
the streets.
The evening sighs
and orders gin.
The moon is a tired
waiter.
Neighbouring tables
fight.
The pavement calls:
‘Where is the beginning
of night ?’
The stones write
cheques.
The cash register coughs
when a cloud brushes by.
Another cloud bellows:
‘Give me wine to forget’
The sky is a black
corpse.
The future an advancing
funeral.

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