Azania we will never be the Same


‪‎Barricades of land we call universities.

Devoid of the history of the soil.

The only place where culture exists

is in unrecognizable material,

Cherried on African studies curricula.

White collar, blue collar worker–you toil to be

no! just a thinned, silenced–tame wire in the racket…

You can’t breathe in that lynching collar.

Breathing is like the gulping of sponged vinegar,

your mouth shut, tears streaming

Bearing testament to centuries

of slashing and servitude

Closed into capitalist barricades

You bring no change to the cries of the ordinary

Those who are barred

living inside metal planks,

Dug on sweeping sand

and not their solid land.

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