After Tears (Kokosi Style)

After Tears (Kokosi Style)

High-heeled vixens cheer the departed, twearking their way into pockets,

Knees scrapping soil and rock in irate dances for lost lovers and foes.

All clad in star black and shawls of lumpy erotica,

They shake rented weaves from patchy skulls

Imagining Qgom nights spent on immemorial one-night-stands.

The scene is mere garnishing on dishes of poisoned orgies

Gone awry in muddy lavatories of a ghetto cemetery.

And by nightfall, the rage would spill over playlists,

Malady stuck on vagrant lips claiming rape,

Turning men into handcuffed trash stuffed into rears of bloody police vans.

Dyslexic teens will jot digits on palms of misogynous men

With hearts decorating knuckles of later terror.

And their mothers will stare fog-minded at their nomads roughly fifteen,

Engraving their monikers on street signs with knives

Borrowed from Sangomas and other peddlers of fortune.

And tonight, the deceased will surely have a companion ghost,

When shame turns bile into a murderous rage in close quarters.

All charms of rogue dreams will dissipate with mists of Sunday’s dawn,

Cold and bare on rancid souls of violated women and children -

Men slumped vomiting hangovers on soiled slabs of concrete cells.