notes on south africa

capetown after the fog

in this space
in this place
where oceans collide
and political factions attempt to un-faction
for agendas of rule and dominance
where newfound hopes and dreams
sprout amongst icons of past oppressions
where people of color
some much darker
some much lighter
try to forge a new reality
there lurks the true masters of the land

they pound their chests throughout the night
and into the morning
they leave droppings and residuals everywhere they perch
they care not of struggles for justice and fairness
they only want to make noise

these are not delicate songs of happiness
they are aggressive trumpet-ings of territorial lust
it makes sleep difficult
and I dream in and out of fiery beaks
and discarded plumes
and embattlements
and feathers drifting to earth
like snowflakes with no other purpose
but they were here first