Nirox, near the Cradle of Humankind, Magaliesberg
1. Early
Night’s cold spittle
has tipped tall grasses.
Pools of cool light
bathe our eyes for an hour
as reeds weave baskets
out of morning air.
South Africa, May 2008
Today I do not love my country.
It is venal, it is cruel.
Lies are open sewers in the street.
Threats scarify the walls.
If after a few weeks you find yourself coughing,
your chest laced in a corset of steel,
tell your doctor you were here.
Tell him about the bats, their investment in the dark,
their droppings spongy fudge
which you probably tramped on in the cave,
the spores you may have breathed
now inhabiting your lung tissue,
taking all your breath
for the growing fungus
inside you.
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