AN EXPERIMENT: a poem on the eve of South Africa's local government elections

Vote of Africa: Baring the Cross

There’s a broken boy

Lives on our street

Paints his face

Will dance for a sweet

His sign says “Thomas”

Got hit by a truck

Go to Steve Biko

Pretend to give a fuck

In the land of the Boers

They call it John Vorster

And they blame his mum

Say: Nobody forced her

He’s lucky of course

There’s money round here

They throw him a Spur

An occasional beer

I say to the kids

Give him a wave

And Tom dances on

To an early grave

It’s voting day

X marks the spot

But not for Tom

He’s a have-not

There is an ideal world

Where Tom is a trooper

In an army of voters

Making life super

The EFF will give him land

The ANC may find a grand

And take it back

With the other hand

Sorry dancing boy

Your life ain’t fair

Your invisible legions

Are too much to share