All you need is poetry!
Already registered? Sign in here
The morning mist / and chimney smoke / of White City Jabavu / flowed thick yellow / as pus oozing / from a gigantic sore. / / It smothered our little houses / like fish caught in a net. / / Scavenging dogs / draped in red bandanas of blood / fought fiercely / for a squirming bundle. / / I threw a brick… sign in to read more »