Poetics

how to drive a tank and other tips for the modern gentleman

first time i came across a beluga whale i had no hands,
found myself thinking about harold pinter, whale was thinking about
the dreams of other fish,
so caught up in the funk that it thought i was six, again.

‘towards nothing’ — what shall we say, are the remains
of the day?

my white whale is a recurring dream,
i will not see doctors,
doctors will see me.

somedays the extremities are cold —
two shots of coffee and i’m ready to go.

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Poetics

James on his death bed

i am with you on limuru road.
i am with you at the archive,
i am with you in all definitions of crisis.
with you in nairobi.
walking with you in lagos.

i’m with you in machakos,

all these troubled years,

i’m with you everywhere.
i’m with you in harare,
i’m with you in sulurele.
we are back together in our rivers,

we are in love,
we are in tears,
we are in orbiting space,
i’m here with you,
we are all gathered together again
for the first time.
James, we are together,
not here — in lodwar.

in kisumu ndogo i am with you,
Torera is with you,
i am not with you.
in Holy Trinity i am with you.

 

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