Tell me, When will Botswana bees stop buzzing? What does it take to shape Gaborone’s sinister whispers into moving melodies? Tell me, how to dodge arrows of…
This is an urgent directive, patriotic officers, Take off your gloves, poverty makes the country look ugly No time for pitter-patter, fight to the finish Your brief is…
After the game We drag Our feet to rooms of dreams we hardly own. The frenzy The fever Gone? No! Load shedding Boycotts Huge debts Certainly…
Wide Open ears linger to hear scandal of the sun tearing off cloth that covers our decency when walls reveal night’s secrets. Who knows what is hidden…
when sun-baked Gaborone afternoons touch this skin it hazily recalls fingertips caressing the slight membrane of emotions half-forgotten under parched under layers of Kgalagadi sand This skin…
when sun-baked Gaborone afternoons touch this skin it hazily recalls fingertips caressing the slight membrane of emotions half-forgotten under parched under layers of Kgalagadi sand This skin…
When sun-baked Gaborone afternoons touch this skin it hazily recalls fingertips caressing the slight membrane of emotions half-forgotten under under layers of Kgalagadi sand When poetry wears…
What words Will give colour To the heart-break Of children Whose home Bears the cross Of demolition For them, the yawn Of dawn brings Disaster that will…
Poetry Now Poetry is not going to liberate anyone Anyone from work Its not something you apply to your skin To look radical or democratic It is the…
They run around the thirsty city always at the mercy of an elsewhere, celebrating what they like to hate Pointing fingers At what they hardly see or…