Poetics

how David Foster Wallace saved him

It is kick off season at the arena.

The music of antecedence.
What is this sickness? Chasing
cheap thrills.

Men who don’t care about your gender when they rape you

behind the vault of the national treasure, here

Kijabe Street and east of Eden.

Your tears spell Abyssinia.

tra la la like when
the neighbours cooking

comes in through your kitchen window.

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