Poem
Julius Chingono
THE CULT
THE CULT
THE CULT
The poor are satanicbelong to a cult
that wears lingering linen.
Their two legged vehicles
are soundless
when they move in streets
heavy with darkness.
They converge in families
in dimly lit huts
with no windows
to drink
kachasu
their wine.
They sing silent hymns
to their gods of want
and thereafter find sleep
on potholed floors
in rooms with falling walls.
Publisher: First published on PIW in a special Zimbabwean edition, 10th June 2008, Rotterdam
Poems
Poems of Julius Chingono
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THE CULT
The poor are satanicbelong to a cult
that wears lingering linen.
Their two legged vehicles
are soundless
when they move in streets
heavy with darkness.
They converge in families
in dimly lit huts
with no windows
to drink
kachasu
their wine.
They sing silent hymns
to their gods of want
and thereafter find sleep
on potholed floors
in rooms with falling walls.
THE CULT
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