1
febrile convulsions
the road to mdantsane
jumps of arrhythmia
twists in contortion
of an impending stroke
nobody here watches
streets dying
the shacks rasping
sells us still
unconfined freedom
layers of elements and
longings
a river of so many people
touched the sun
the sky
with their
fist
once.
2
the road to cecilia makiwane hospital
is subtle to an extent
the dead treads softly here
not to awaken the shadows
living in the confluence of dread
and disparity
the sky occasionally moves down
and it is then the trees leap to search
the forgotten
driving down to cecilia makiwane hospital
mdantsane
daily
breathing the electric poles
shedding light
relief is perhaps a
sparse
word.
