Liturgy of the Borderline | Joseph Ikhenoba | Poetry
We gathered where the highway ends and the township begins, & watched the crowds pull down shutters heavy with the dust of Hillbrow, & it looked like smoke, or the charred iron of a country locking its gates. My grandmother used to say that a continent is a single piece of cloth, woven to […]
Black News 
We gathered where the highway ends and the township begins, & watched the crowds pull down shutters heavy with the dust of Hillbrow, & it looked like smoke, or the charred iron of a country locking its gates. My grandmother used to say that a continent is a single piece of cloth, woven to […]
