The view from Table Mountain

got ten days counting the minutes
never mind the hours
snake up signal hill
climb it's neck to the top
we go all out

ticking boxes of what
we completed these holidays
rock stars in levis in long street
offer us glasses shaded
by jack daniels

every one's smoking in a sixties kinda of way
sexy sexual black,
beach sand white
blue atlantic waves rock millionaires catamarans out in the bay
tanning my urban white thighs
in a bikini a size too big

another day goes by we forgot to eat
there's tequila in the fridge
as the sun goes down behind the mountain
reluctantly at 8:30pm dusk till 9
pulling off surf gear looking for mascara
and a shower; my jeans hang over the back
of my chair

the summer night outside holds promise
the stars in Cape Town are every where
in the sky in our eyes on it's streets
in it's clubs and bars
and if we lucky between our hotel sheets.