Chitungwiza Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

To have risen eyebrows in hamlets
The portral of slums turns our crib
Nor ever ills to denote. Revulsions
At peak day on spells surving kins

Sister gets paid for conjugal visits
If this be the quest of life sustenance
Gloomy penetrations, no doubt to
Bore bastards resultantly each core

Brother break a leg in pursuits awry
Upriver is a hide out, a brewage pot
Kachasu ferments off season so dry
That fails the brothers conscience...

Mother out in streets scavenging on
Ghost jobs prove the distress epoch
Prevailing round and round hamlets
With lips as dry as lizards from heats

Fathers deeds not to nitpick, it prove
Nitwits duped each moments, name
Hustle is his formal job crafts. No lie
Is vice tongues pay a prize or bribes.