Sextant Review Posts


Dark as coal dust, quieter than death

South Africa sits and holds its breath

The Eastern Cape, the people, see

They don’t want to help the townships for free

A family of five lives in a shack

The more destitute rely on crack

Children shitting in the roads

No one represents them in tearful odes

Cows and donkeys graze in the dirt

When I see it my heart hurts

The kids, the wreckage, the sheet metal homes

While we drive in a car with mirrors of chrome

The people stare as we pass by

Clicking their Xhosa, eyes so sly

Who are they, I imagine they say,

To drive in here and see our dismay

Go back to America, curious ghosts

We don’t want a helping hoax

Unless you want to take us away,

Get out, get out, surely it’s cold for you in May

The promise land won’t be ours

Save us your sorrow, take back your hours


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