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SPENDING THE NIGHT IN OLD KAZUNGULA

an extract from a poem written by Mpho Leteng The sun; formless and fading, Softly the blackness whelms it. I'm on the veranda fondling a bottle of vodka(with lemon of course!) As the wind flagellates heavily, I can smell cigarette smoke Plunging like greased lightning before my nostrils! But there's a passive feeling about spending the night in old kazungula, Especially with a beer in hand And the aroma of hand rolled cigarette in the neighborhood. Rainclouds come together to tog up the unguarded sky And finally, dewdrops fall down in disband, A convivial reception from the gods of this land, We'll, I just take a sip and another one And the last one before I have Forty winks. I will be sipping Zambian Junta for the next two weeks, It's flavoursome and enlivening though the smell reeks, I've heard rumours that this kachilichili knocked down mighty oaks! TO BE CONTINUED....

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Date: 6/19/2021 9:48:00 AM
Marvelous writing, Mpho, full of poignant images. A glimpse into your culture.
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Mpho Leteng
Date: 7/28/2021 4:43:00 AM
Thank you for taking time to read my work, much appreciated