Zuma-Ville

    
     
There is a zebra that lives in my road;     
on the corner a gorilla counts horses      
birds sing songs of love on the mud-hut
roof of a lion’s home. Where I live a      
cheetah out-runs a kudu, to the beat      
of an afrikan drum
I appreciate stepping in elephant dung      
     
People laugh at this      
my afrikan drum      
     
I smile  
in the knowledge     
it is this or
     
There is a dealer that lives in my road      
on the corner, police count bribes      
prostitutes sing words of lust
on the palace roof of the president's castle
Where I live a      
murderer out-runs a hijacker, to the beat  
of a rapist's hum.  
I’m appalled by the bullet in a 10 year old lung      
     
People die at this, the beat of      
a afrikan drum.      
     
     
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