A Poem
By Zama Madinana
here taps
wail
without weeping
just air seeping
for days
& a stink
of toilets
that cannot swallow
grows
in the township
it’s midday
teenage mothers
roam
the streets
with wobbling breasts
in soiled nighties
kwamazakhele
some are scratching
& screeching
itching
crotches
cockroaches
caressing dirty dishes
on kitchen tables
dozens of toddlers
soaked in dust
& licked
by the stubborn sun
protesters have turned
the streets into cliffs
of infernos
and there is no water to kill the fire
ezakheni
