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Wallpaper

by Abbey Khambule Before you left you asked me to move a small vine of bougainvillea inside until winter had passed. It’s now inscribed an arch over the window, creeping over the graffito “Ek Is As Gevolg Van Jou” sketched

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Water

by Abbey Khambule The tide grows. A charm of firefinches flies over the promontory, breaks open and tumbles on the wind like roller pigeons; retreats inland, fleeing the ribboning tongue of the sun setting in the ocean. I imagine it

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Three poems by Abbey Khambule

Winter and a dream The city street is neon cold He flashes light through my window On the wall it sits like a door Opening and closing to a flurry of muffled voices The laughter of children I fall into

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Posted in Poetry

Poems by Abbey Khambule

guns of daughters she parades the free maidan, sampling cadences of silence beneath the falling vacuity; she slew him cold with a serrate stare, and foul lager spilled from his throat like blood of a lamb; tobacco in the air

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Posted in Poetry
A Call for Submissions: Johannesburg in Poetry