“Growing up changes morethan playground gamesand body shapes.”

“Strange, isn't it?" he asks."Where life takes you and how much can change.”

“Bongo's sobs are hurled outlike paintballs from a skirmish gununtil the force diminishesinto a trickle of sobsthat wind up the exorcism.”

“The telly is invadedby hallelujah channelsand informercials,both trying to selleverything neededto save you.”

“They scribble on notepads,the sound of their pensscratching the judgemental air.”

“I want out of this place.With no reminders."It stings -sulphur tearsin cinnamon rain.”

“I walk the city, through its crush of people and its smells:body odour, rotting food, vomit and urine. A cocktail of oppression and freedom.”