A Poem by Shepherd Mandhlazi

I met him in  the supermarket
White robes
Blue crucifix
he was cursing;
Nothing to buy....
He turned to me,
Brother
You are thinking of running to South Africa
He said
Your wife is about to leave you,
Says you are too poor
Your rent is due
You do not have the money
Your mealie-meal is finished
The black market...
Fuck the black market
I said
Your kid has been kicked out of school
He said
You walked into town today.
That is my life
I said
How do you know?
You must be a good prophet.
That is my life too brother
He said
And that of nine in ten Zimbos
No prophesy at all.