The southwestern township

comes alive in

the nighttime

The power trips

because Pravin is

on a power-trip

Khenza becomes a Gaza strip

teasing death with the

bullets that seduce the sky

Glocks pun the air

lone-walkers beware

you chose a bad day

to be stranded like broke hair

The patrons at 112

are refusing to disperse

voluptuous vixens in tight skirts

are making it worse

They say little

by way of words

but enough, through body-language

We come alive

in the nighttime.

The curfew lifted like a coffin

then Dracula came out to play

The full moon bursting

with the glow

of a thousand inner ‘peace’s

the kind of endorsement

only a celestial object ever reaches

The power returns

once the powers-that-be

have gotten their rocks off

We cheer sarcastically

and loan the Mexican wave

from the muchacho’s

at a zero per cent interest

The activities go unabated

only dawn can intervene

against nocturnal kaffirs

conquering the night.

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Peculiar "Ph D" Khumalo, born and bred (and buttered) in White City, Soweto, the liveliest township in Africa in 1987. Attended Boarding School at Bophelo Impilo and Matriculated in 2007. While his erudite endeavours do not venture beyond Matric, he had long been told he had a way with words, a hype he still has a hard time believing. "Of all the pleasures of life, I relishes nothing more than a conversation over coffee" ☕