Risk and aftershock,
that leaps desire. Volcanic 10.01.2012
—for Vann Nath
This was a school
before it was wire and silence.
scented the sunlit courtyard. Remembering S-21, Cambodia 10.01.2012
Glass door in a glass wall,
screen of reflections, rain-
streaks, fingerprints, slips
the catch of the lock, swings Axis and Revolution 10.01.2012
On the anniversary of 20 March 2003
I sense you close, a part of you,
your stiff shirt, your hand,
never the whole. My Intimate 10.01.2012
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 From Malikhanye 10.01.2012
i breathe slowly
humour New Country 10.01.2012
i’m linking things i’m beginning to see
the length of this organ, my dying land
all the mistakes my god has learned San People 10.01.2012
i have lived to discover a city, an open road,
a bucket of milk, and two gentle doves.
i have discovered in myself
two frightened birds with miles of dirt road to fly.
in the forest hills spiders and black dogs clamoured.
in the corpses of yellow flowers
a rainbow spun across a darkened sky.
i lived in a street where girls with dark eyes sang,
birds with their wings welcomed a harsh rain.
Kotaz Mxolisi Nyezwa is founder and editor of , now in its fourteenth year.
Click here to purchase Issue 04 City 10.01.2012
4 a.m. Streets under fog. Streetlights gone.
Except a few down the road
and the moon’s halo
easily obscured by a plume of breath Fog 10.01.2012
(After a photograph by Victor Dlamini)
There is that sea, deep sometimes
as the heart at dusk,
the shine on its face soon to fade.
There is that caravel drifting in
and all it brings: a load of good
and the bad unreckoned by the quartermaster. This is the Sea 10.01.2012