October 24, 2026

by MUSHASHO PHIRI

Tragic World

Shedding waterfalls over the news

but no drops for the green tent at the corner.

We might not be measured as

three-fifths anymore.

But if I wasn’t trending,

would you be posting?

     No.

It’s tragic

and so are we.

Are you checking the history,

letting the reality hit,

or is it hashtags and how sad.

Yet no idea why?

Even then,

tragic won’t shapeshift

its form.

My pain over yours?

And you’re bleeding on me

inconsiderate.

What about my fear of blood?

*

GARAGE

Cardboard on floor.

Oil in the air.

Spanners and bolts,

a hammer knowing

Exactly where to land.

Chairs shuffling

as they also wait.

A different operation.

I watch through a window

as they lift the hood

like opening a chest.

Everything hurts

and I’m not on the table.

Oil stains.

Unadulterated humour.

The long wait making 

every clock liar.

All in hopes of an “it’s done.”

Here are your keys

tossed across the counter.

With that familiar

“Hurry back now!”