Bad Bishop

You accepted the morsels
of a mouldy piece of bread
and in so doing betrayed Ubuntu,
clogging up the resevoir of blood
spilled in the Chimurenga,
letting it clot and thicken.

Your eloquence enunciated fully
the hunger of your palate
while you laid to rest
thousands of empty stomachs.
It must have tasted sweet,
now that your mouth is rotten.