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written by: Tinashe Muza


With the AKG phones plugged in,
I soak heavily into Hozier’s Wasteland Baby
A beautiful world it is
It’s a daily hustle in the streets
Pupils rush by to catch cheap lifts
Mediocre working class staggers past in exhaustion
In their “not so expensive” suit and tie outfits
Beside me is a sly vendor advertising her well ripe tomatoes,
Seasoned with some freshly harvested dense spinach
Tick tock I check my wrist, but she hasn't yet arrived
My gaze is stolen by a touting bus operator, yelling “$2
OK Machipisa”
God what has this world become
Not a word to describe the economic crisis
Reverting my head back in position, I spot an acquaintance
Raising my hand unpremeditatedly in attempt to fish his attention
the movement is blocked
“Hey mom,” with an amicable smile we embrace warmly

Tinashe Muza

Tinashe Muza

Born in Harare, I grew up in Highfield with my aunt. Went to Sandringham High (2014-2017). Pursing my dream to study oncology, I find myself gallivanting in the world of poetry.
Tinashe Muza

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