Exposed belly buttons and naked knees.
The ghetto street embellished with clamors of tin and coordinated jumps,
Screams of ‘Chicago! Chicago! Letha ama tin!!!’
Hunger and the fullness of a childhood spent in the dusty ghetto street.
A street forlorn of names,
A place of beautiful arms, children, legs, kaffir hair, hungry smiles, love.
These are daughters,
daughters of the dust.
Mapule Mohulatsi is a daughter, dancer, speaker, thought masturbator, of the dust. (SA)
this poem appears in our print quarterly number eight, Dear South Africa.
BUY yourself a copy from us or from Book Lover’s Market and at Smashwords.