Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Musaemura Zimunya

You haven’t met her

You haven’t met her

You haven’t met her

Of course, you have not met her,
Loveness, the sunshine of the city,
once the honey-pie of the ghetto,
the sugar-loaf of the township
and now the ice-cream cone itself.

The white mini-skirt clung to her figure
like icing on a cake.

her breasts plunged ram-horns
in the hearts of men.

Her fried eggs broke a marriage contract
now Tito’s home is a village wound
that babbles with the gossip
and the bitter cries of a mother.

Tattered, the children’s bottoms
have taken the hue of ash-earth.

Sam, the little one
has a head the size of two footballs
his bones and ribs
cry for an enumerator.
Close

You haven’t met her

Of course, you have not met her,
Loveness, the sunshine of the city,
once the honey-pie of the ghetto,
the sugar-loaf of the township
and now the ice-cream cone itself.

The white mini-skirt clung to her figure
like icing on a cake.

her breasts plunged ram-horns
in the hearts of men.

Her fried eggs broke a marriage contract
now Tito’s home is a village wound
that babbles with the gossip
and the bitter cries of a mother.

Tattered, the children’s bottoms
have taken the hue of ash-earth.

Sam, the little one
has a head the size of two footballs
his bones and ribs
cry for an enumerator.

You haven’t met her

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère