Dirge for a Moletsane Boxer

A crucifix of chrysanthemum

You lay upon 

Garlands of common words 

Spilled from your open mouth

Apocryphal anthems for Golgotha 

From space you would look like a giant T

Dressed in loose fitting coveralls

And it was autumn

The sky would blacken eating crow

And we wouldn't see your murder coming

She said you couldn't put a boxing ring

On her finger

And you duly obliged by buying a boxed ring

And hanging up your gloves

The boys would takes jabs at you with jibes

Talking about how she had boxed you in

You cast a shadow over the neighborhood

A champion in waiting and we ate in your shadow

I would try and get you to teach me boxing 

But you would Shoosh me

Well I would practice when you weren't watching

All the news was about how you'd gone ten and ‘O’

How you were an artist leaving men lifeless impressionists

On the canvas

How you had no equal in the arena

How your jaw could break a hammer 

We would meet under the only shade in the park

After you would see her off to work

You would mouth out all the English words I could muster

You would bring newspapers and magazines and learn by ear

I would want you to tell me how to fight and you wouldn't 

I was proud of our bond

And what did that pride get me? 

A bleeding nose and sore lip

When I ran to tell you and got to your street

A woman stopped me and hid me behind her slip

You were lying in the street with your arms wide 

Like they were welcoming the sky

Eyes open but vacant

As hollow as your open mouth

They killed you the street was saying

The sun was beating down mercilessly 

Your shadow had shrunken to just beneath your body

In broad daylight they kept saying

And your woman arrived with the band on her finger

And the instrumental mourners behind her

She was betrothed bereaved and bewildered

She was tearing at her clothes and beating your chest

I was still in the clutch of that woman; from whom I couldn't quite slip

I wanted to run to you because 

By knowing the words I knew the spell that would wake you

When you would fall asleep 

In that same way

Your arms thrown outward like a scarecrow

There was a song you loved whose words you didn't quite know 

That would rouse you I knew this

Then

As truly I knew you weren't all counted out

I never got to getting to your side 

I've since forgotten the the song

But I am all grown up and know you are dead for sure

I never stopped hitting athe books like you said

And I even turned to writing

And just so you know

I haven't lost a fight to a verse yet I'm at 10 and O