By VONANI BILA
(after discovering that I weigh 90 kilograms before the age of 40)
chubbiness is weighing me down
like a tree that can’t carry its branches anymore
i don’t want to be brushed aside
so easily by the wind of love
like rugged absentminded sweating men
with bellies of pap, tripe & beer
from Invisible Earthquake
27th May, 00h44
I write to keep you alive.
I write to resist killing myself
In little do-able ways,
Lose days, dreaming of reunion with you.
from Requiem for This House
the father will definitely be burnt
the mother too, will be burnt
the little boys are then, already burnt
By FIONA ZERBST
Risk and aftershock,
this love
that leaps desire.
By FIONA ZERBST
—for Vann Nath
I.
This was a school
before it was wire and silence.
Oleander
scented the sunlit courtyard.
Glass door in a glass wall,
screen of reflections, rain-
streaks, fingerprints, slips
the catch of the lock, swings
On the anniversary of 20 March 2003
I sense you close, a part of you,
your stiff shirt, your hand,
never the whole.
for my son malikhanye liyema nyezwa
who died on 2 august 2007 aged 3 months
how do i say this, that once your eyes were like topaz
and your heart clean as jasmine
in the dense forests i follow the black traces of your lashes
in the empty memory of lost time
my feet tumble against cold hope
i’m linking things i’m beginning to see
the length of this organ, my dying land
all the mistakes my god has learned
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