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“Africa is black!”

He shouted angrily

As I walked away

Thinking

“Fuck you!”

Africa is battered

And bruised

Africa is blue

And purple and brown.

All because I wanted to reflect

I wanted to embrace

The whispering lake

And the clouds

And the sunset

And the moment,

But beach-boy couldn’t imagine

That I could be immune

To his golliwog song-and-dance.

Africa still bleeds

The wounds still raw

Festering minds colonized

With carved hands

Grasping for tourist dollars

Passing through

The half-smiling zoo

With bags of medication

And preconceptions intact.

No-one utters a word

The civilized brutality

And prejudice intact

Overlooking the bloodied white hand

Nurturing murderous despots

Pointing manicured fingers

Ignoring the abject desperation

Of a mother drenched and begging

From a passing vehicle with cameras drawn.