They Dig.... Poem by Felicity Nong

They dig
With sweat beads
Of heavy piks
And broad shovels
Falling along the tarred roads
Of northern skies
A sea of sweat
Drowning the false shadows
Of infinite poverty

They dig
For their ulceric stomachs
Of acids burning swallowed
Dreams and foreign hopes
Of “a bass met ‘n goie hart”
Who will by day end
Give them bus fare

They dig
On the lookout
For liberty
The freedom that’s
Spoken of on their
Wirelesses and televisions
That will with any luck
Reach them before they
Start digging their graves