I once had dis babé..
I’ll be seeing you soon babé
He’d murmur
down my throat
straight to my pot
and seat of memories of tomorrow –
but babé never did.

Maybe babé
got broke
high
hung over
hustled hard
or heavens have him…

Seventy-seven days later
babe’s shadow is at my creaky door,
shocking its wail into silence.
Babé I missed you
Eish babé Joe
‘tryin to wrap me like candy.

‘I am sand, Joe
I glisten in the sun
I shift
with the tide,
a wrap won’t do’.

Dis babé
dis music of muscle
glistening in sliding sweat
drenched in bouquets of desire
wafting like real men
in Zamdela at dusk.

‘hurling
his forgotten self in
gum-boots
trying to dig
into my calabash of honey,
like that hole of hell in
shaft-two gold mine.

I once had dis babe,
dis packed mountain of black
diamond –
dirty,
cold,
common,
like coal.