BLACK ORANGES  Xenophobia my son  I hear a murmur in the streets  A babble of adjoining markets  Your conscience itching with guiltiness like  Genital leprosy  Your wide eyes are cups where tears never fall  When they fall the storm wash down bullet drainsand garbage cities  ii)  Come nomzano with your whisper to drown,  Blood scent stinking the rainbow altar.  Darfur, petals of blood spreading,  Perfume of death choking slum nostrils  Slums laden with acrid smell of mud and  Debris smelling like fresh dungs heaps  Fear scrawling like lizards on Darfur skin  Kibera. I see you scratching your mind like ragged linen  Smelling the breath of slums and diesel fumes  The smoke puffing out through ghetto ruins is the fire dousing the emblem of the state  iii)  Belly of Zambezi ache with crocodile and fish  Villages piled like heaps of potatoes against the flank…

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