Friday night - Poem by Vonani Bila
Hey, dude, I'm telling you, young fellow;
When it's spine-chilly cold,
Hey you, put on a jacket!
But when rain pours down,
It's grand, don't forget a raincoat.
It's Friday night.
The gumba is high at Sophie's stokvel,
Sweet jazz at bra Rollie's disco
We don't need fools - no trouble-makers here.
We, the clever ones, are going there
To get down with the girls in tight jeans,
Holding Zamalek/Black Label, Hunter's Gold
Cigarette on hand.
Shake Kiki's wasp-like waist, Joe!
Kiki, open your heart please . . .
Joe was burning up for baby for ages.
I'll shake the one with a Cocacola bottle figure,
Lindi, the ebony black beauty.
Lindi, open your heart please . . .
Baby, your loveliness drives me crazy!
The wind is blowing outside.
Lindi, hold my hand,
Come to my chest, feel me pulsating,
Your breasts warming my once lost soul . . .
Your dew-like eyes glistening with love make me pale;
Let's relax on the lawn, hold me -
Caress me, baby,
Where is the condom in your pocket?
Don't make yourself a foolish Thomas.
The time of trust is long gone.
It's better to trust a boot,
It'll protect me from the mud.
Or we simply can't control the blood?
AIDS is no Verwoerd carving Apartheid monsters!
While we keep on waxing our ears,
Death shall lack mercy, old man.
Hey, Joe, I'm telling you little fellow,
The time of fok-fok is long past.
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