Overwhelmed by your wavy axiom
rage to rage
a reincarnated Marechera
ready to mouth juicy blasphemies.
Passion of tiger, orgasm of lion.
Angst, and angst, arrant angst.
I rise to cure my nation of paralysis
with fragrant concoction of blasphemies.
Equip me with more profanities, oh Sea.
Nourish me with your stubborn waves.
Eager temptations range themselves
to smudge this crystal epiphany.
My soul is raging.
My feet seek to step
on smithereens of china conventions.
I will defy the lust of the rainbow
and dance no more to the handclaps
of communal decorum.