It was a blazing hot December summer afternoon in Hamanskraal. I was visiting a friend I hadn’t seen for a while- she was home for Christmas. My allergy to dust had brought me out here in escape from the on-going renovations at home. I know, strange to leave a dusty place for another dusty place. Thankfully, the heavens kept the ground moist enough to capture and keep any threatening dust particles.

So there we were with her family doing the infamous Christmas shopping. For someone with far too many notebooks, i felt it was necessary to purchase yet another one. And there was a moment of brilliance in which The One Page Chronicles came to be. It was then when i thought that it would be quite something to write a series of one-page poems. I mean- other writers and poets can relate right- you’ve had that moment when you’ve written a small section and somehow it feels like the poem has reached its end, despite the gnawing feeling to continue onto the next page…

So this is to say, dear reader, dear fellow poet, dear stranger- I’m experimenting with something we call limit and structure. Where I will usually write like a woman possessed, I have come to a place where I feel the need to do far more than i already have. So when you come across a poem that has been underlined (——————) like we used to do back in primary school, its only declaring that its status as a  The One Page Chronicles poem. So go ahead, read, enjoy, comment.

Thanks a Bungy Bunch!

Boipelo Seswane/ WriterB

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