"Unemployed"
       

The sea
is haunted
by wind and fogs.
Fogs that stray like crooks.

Fingers
love to snatch, to hook
and to feel
but there is only a nothingness left to peel

Where, where did the dead go?

This sea was bloated
and bloody during
the war.

Limbs were squashed
against the riverbed
and floated there.

Even octopus suffocated
beneath the petticoat of spew and gore.

Only we
the penguins survived.

We awaken every day
to slouch and
to beg
because we cannot fly away.

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Copyright © 2019 Tsitsi S.A. Sachikonye All rights reserved
from Five Points
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission