Síngular Poet Bonganí Zungu Biography

Far off in the future once upon—
A lone mbulu feather blown-swirl by the wind gently lands on the might-peak of a Hill.

Could there be more to see; or gaze gold's glitter glass part dug. A tremble-shift bone left no bone by bone or name. But a skeleton lain ancient craft. Dignity's harvest binds commoner and King, tucked tusk's all fine; sand in stone's turn-trail trunk;
...

Hear that cradle gush; silent
rhythmical march here unearthed.
By word world's wall, offering thus
the Nile no mortal name. Amun.
...

We couldn't; nor needn't; didn't.
None whispered; nor near mist-top mountain range.
We couldn't name the norm with such heating pain; would such survive. Around the edges thin, a deed in droughts be blown as thirds, the hurry-hurl of a hurricane our ancestors would wail the weep. And another.
The variation breeds and breathes a cycle of fossils dried. And duned a deed.
...

There she lay, on spacer stone
singing string. There is the pendant
float-biloba; the red of the ring—
the orange of Ur.
...

I will search for you through 千 worlds and 一万 lifetimes until I find you.

The way forth faced within.
In the rush of rolling currents;
...