(Written after the murder of Advocate Dan Kutumela)
Dying
has become
the mistress
with whom we brazenly
carry on an illicit love affair
that ends only
in the grave.
We rise
and kiss her
'Good morning my love'
and walk with her
hand in hand
into trains infested
with tsotsis.
We flirt
as we eat fish and chips
on a city pavement
whilst human blood
and torrents of tears flow.
Into this raging river
a passing hobo
hurls an empty
wine bottle
sending ripples
of ridicule.
'Bah! I'm no cannibal
but a custodian
of Western Civilization.
At night
we go to bed
to make love,
but bloodthirsty thugs
smash windows
bash my brains
take my willing mistress away.
O! Let them take her!
Take her away for good!
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