poem: africa

men left africa.

i left them, too. i went back to the caravan cart

and sat with my white feet

under the tarp, and watched them stream out of

the savannah, a great dark comet

rolling his way across the motherland.

i left them, and i stayed on the continent. i stayed

alone, but i did not count on the bugs

coming to roost in me, the little mosquitos

all intending to colonize their larvae

in my blood.

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