XVI
April 29, 2013 § Leave a Comment
how you wanted me
an acrylic camel on a wall of skin
and sun; la guerra
non รจ finita
sabicas:
April 29, 2013 § Leave a Comment
in the night without breath
in the night without breath
the bellies of the birds
move
not
in the night without breath
kawaida:
April 13, 2013 § Leave a Comment
bad poetry comes from the heart,
good words live in the belly- kawaida.
this is africa
an africa without mice rain and endless conversation
one stops, another begins- no, under the baobab
a daughter gives her son silence
her mother moringa
what separates us here, so far
from africa. from africa
is not silence. it’s the endless, coming
words. the mouths we use
are hers.
journey.
March 23, 2013 § 4 Comments
utopia: come back through the tunnel and arrive
when the night is backing from parked cars
noisy-le-grand.
seldom come they singing without mouths
moving in time to the stars and the last
sentenced to upheaving cobbles; fall ye.
Utrechtenaar give me a way to say ‘buried’ without the end
leave it to the mythmaker, Sabba, go now
to white women dancing away the nightflies in an anaemic haze
leave it to the halfway in translation
and behold, our roots are
grounding. the roots are grounding.
