Publisher: Deep South, South Africa
When they began talking of digris
She looked at me at my empty silence
but you write write poems
how come you got no degrees?
the stamps in this detention mind
turn livid like a charon capsizing in Urine
the smudges on my face are debating faeces
the wormz these my fingers are typewriter keys
the Cry in the raining nyt trying
trying
to mangle the english sanguage
I forget
my dreadline is close
I have taken my poems
I’ll get the books when I
bring your money
the typewriter was neva mine
Price range: £17.00 through £18.00
About the author
Phillip Zhuwao, who died in 1997 aged 27, was a brilliantly original Zimbabwean poet. His poems are visceral, sharp-witted, linguistically playful, and uncompromising in their anarchic aesthetic and intensity. Rich in classical and literary references and following moments of chance, they move fluidly between the poet’s inner pain, the scarred landscape of Harare’s townships, and unforgettable images of rage and beauty.
