I’ve been drinking Mzwandile’s drawings
These shades and lines eat my bowels to decay
Loose anus can’t hold my shit
Now I compose poems with faeces
My abstract heart
A blank placard hangs on the wall, it’s art
And in the background malombo drum a stampede
Trace it to the rhythm of a riot
Rebel beat that birthed us
Nduduzo’s fingers are land mines, they explode on piano
And only spirits can speak through fingertips
Now we transit in songs that travelled