The Bells Of Heaven by Nyashadzashe Chikumbu

The bells of heaven cling_on
Out on rubbish heaps;
The tire of life spins.

Chuck ! chuck , chuck …
Brittle little industrial hands
Buttered like little-strained coal trains;
From Binga to Bulawayo.
finger through;
Rotten tomatoes, broken jam jars ;
A bit of yesterday’s splattered pampers.
All of the town’s spew.
In search the day’s most important meal.

Cockcrowing, light rays descend like
The prodigal son-
Brushing its tattered rags
Upon the not-expecting backs;
Of God’s little Devine creatures.
Frozen toes and nails
Begin to thaw and wake from
Yester- Night’s
Cold on a smooth street alley.

Pretty little souls
transfigured to filthy looking trolls.
Turning everyone’s skank
into gold.
Poverty a curse,
A crime.
Or judgment of a sin long forgotten?

Guttural shrieks from enveloped
underbellies _ a reminder.
Of sucklings cocooned in tattered Cardboard boxes awaiting ;
Their final meal.

Nyashadzashe Chikumbu a young Zimbabwean Poet, writer of satiric verses, short stories and essayist. Best known for his wit and crude irony.