Poetics

Where have you been?

The bin slid into our lives like a slow, benign
hereditary madness, with a fancy name. Enviable
Something more original than Kalashnikov.
The site of it preempted by the stench
8 A.M.’s rays on torn PVC and fish baskets,
A white dog with a black eye.
No one but the kids got close to it
Not even Nairobi Bins.
a secret cemetery for premature fetuses
And feces neatly wrapped in old fascists’ newspapers.
Sorting through the residues of my predecessors,
It was the happiest time of my life
The bin, 1800hrs,
Was only The Tank of Colossal Power
As inspired by Jamhuri Day celebrations
The Old Cannon sent fireballs into the night
Poosh! Voosh! Die Father. Silently. Please.
A happy life meant blaming the ones who came before us.
Where have you been Nairobi?

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