Behold The Passerby Poem by Thabani Khumalo

As a beautiful baby begins to crawl
and there is an ecstatically complete cheer in the elucidated living room -
a jubilation in the air of the standard home house
of a quiet suburb in the chaotic neighborhood in the ghetto,
behold a passerby is tested with the only ultimate truth
and I am an innocent bystander startled by the trait of their rage:
three men emerge from under a dark shade
of an umbrella shaped tree, outside a 3-series beamer,
armed with pistols and very ugly faces.
They wave, they boast and blaspheme fouls into the crepuscule air,
they swam the air and cause a bad heat to the nature of dusk -
behold the passerby: he grabs one by the collar, he punches hard on his nose,
he super kicks the throat of the other -
and sends him flying back onto the driver's seat,
he continues to pump loads on the former,
he beats him flat to the ground and confiscates his gun,
he sends the third bimbo to quickly run into the house
to fetch the stolen money within a minute;
he does so by ordering him around with a harsh voice and pointing a finger,
he says he shouldn't take long to locate it
or his friend will die immediately after,
he begins to attack the guy on the driver's seat -
they are beefing about the keys to the 3-series beamer,
he beats him sick and tosses him out of the car,
he gets the keys and slides them into the same pocket
where he pulls out a funny looking military pocket knife,
he stabs hims six times on the back
and snatches the bag from the third bimbo as he greets back,
he knocks him very hard with the hilt of the knife
and stabs him on the glutes through the trousers.
He gets into the car and gets the engine to run,
behold the passerby - he drives away into the busy road on a big stolen engine.