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I want to see you dance
among blue-pale wisps
at night, when shebeens are dense
with the factory worker,
and bone-shaking mbaqanga*
fills the shack. I
want to see you
dance with your body that quakes
as you slide aside to let a rhythm by,
only to pick up some other tones
heading away against the force
of shriller, more common notes,
trembling to this sound this be-bop
that keeps us alive.
Evenings
in my corner like the first night
I want to watch you jive, mouthing to me
the words on your lips till I sober up
at the nervous thought, the idea
of never again seeing you dance,
some day when the big life
comes crashing down.
Rethabile Masilo is a Lesotho
national living in France. He's the father of two and enjoys playing soccer,
writing, and cooking. He is the editor of Canopic Jar and has previously
been published in Orbis, Ascent Aspirations, Concelebratory Shoehorn Review,
Bolts of Silk and Babel Fruit. You may contact him by clicking this link:
here.
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