SIX, SEVEN, SIX, SEVEN

Here, where the land sobs
and rivers chew livers
while helpless mothers watch
we have learned to laugh
even when the steel doors
have been permanent-locked.

We still remember those days,
so, no sir, no madam,
We don't fault Mandebvu
for his T & R days
but a little slap on
the wrist even, could
have sent a message.

We have already seen tomorrow
and live not to remember
even where nightmares
continue to throw rocks
when the wasteland we call sleep
rouses us again.

You come on here
scarred land of forgetfulness,
where now our hearts
are dry rags
that can never be wet,
even when the river
offers to quench the thirst.