06 June 2011
Resembled the road to a terrestial Hades at dawn
Belching machines and bloodied skylines
Sidewalks paved with layers of grime.
More people arrive each day
Looking for the promise of a new tomorrow
They do not seem to notice the haze
Straight ahead they keep their gaze.
Outside my place of work
The encampment grows and grows
More people erect their cardboard rooms
I watch them bath under blankets as I arrive.
The smell is intense
Their desperation immense
I cannot avert my eyes
We exchange glances but that's all.
Chief Tshwane's domain, once pristine and free
Has become increasingly covered in tar and concrete
Geographically the world’s third-biggest metro
Pshychologically we become the rot in which we live.
I need to leave the city
To settle somewhere where there's still something worth defending
A wilderness worth fighting for.