On what happened at Clarks and Olympia - The Occupation

when we
come together
at coffee
shops in this
colony

they stare
and glare.

wondering
if we are
queer,
affronted
by the concen-
tration in the
colour of our
skins

our uninhibited
laughs scare
them.

they pull out
their phones
and take pics

"look the mon-
keys have
gathered"

we occupy.
we occupy.
we occupy.

it terrifies
them.

"excuse me,
what do you 
all think the
future of this
country is
going to be?"

in response:
           silence

a burst of prop-
osterous laughter -
our disbelief -
their fucking 
audacity

we become the
spokespeople
for their deepest
fears.

Swartgevaar
is real. And
apartheid
never died.

they think
they own this
place /land/

but

blackness is
rising. and it
starts with us.

Our sister-
                 hood.
Our mother-
                  hood.
Our saint-
                  hood.