earth's limbs are heavy with the weight of almost ripe mangoes, birth dangling over the dusty desolate streets, i find dreams in my sleep.
the sweet air of burkina deep
in my mind.
the morning drinks of syrup milk and an undefined sun: divine
adoring the flourescent green of banana leaves goats feast on the garbage and forage ignoring
what their meat is worth
while rythms weave through the relaxed evolution of fruits
a steady drum a midday flute
the tune attepts to mute
the rapid dilution of our ancestors
softly forgotten
by the accidental heart of
new roots
