A Fight In Makokoba by Clemence Chinyani

Image - dyn.politico.com

 I was there,
Standing with the watchers,
Adding my voice to the din,
Saying things, to nobody,
Flinching, Scared for him,
The one who was drunk,
And the other, boiled-as-an-owl,
Throwing fits wildly as if fighting with the air,
After a while they rested,
Like two turkey-cocks,
Balloon lipped, blue-eyed,
Spitting bloodied spit,
One started about the other's mother,
The crowd fell into a frenzy,
Someone pushed the other's supporter,
And the sun slid an inch down to it's awaiting bed,
The beer hall security personnel laughed,
And the short blade knife darted through space,
From the back-pocket to the chest cavity,
Drawing blood,
End of the fight, someone toll the bell,
Fun's over a man is down.