The Dictator Poem by Thabani Khumalo

The Dictator of an embattled district;
the landlord who blows out fire when he yawns;
the hooven devil sitting on the throne of a human king -
I am he, Thabani Khumalo, the son to a born-wizard with no friend.

I will permit a consignments Mamba to slither onto your bed
and fight you deadly for some propaganda story I've woven
while you are naked to the pair of the butt - cleft.
I will scare you up with ultra-violet light rays
right in the deepest part of the darkest night,
and you wake up pitch black blind
from that next morning until the day you die.

Everybody that lives in my land owes me all of their soul,
and this is one thing they can never be able to buy back -
so they shall do so pay, in excruciating pain, until they die.
Those who felt the urge to fight my father -
for some reason or vanity - must surely die
and their lovely children too measured in that extent:
otherwise I need the entire space to myself -
my land will be way safer in entirety
without sordid humans to pollute the area of the place,
because I want to breath a little deeper of the denser air.