Crying in Hiccoughs

Brother?

36 Canonise the stride for vengeance And set the pace of drawn brows. So, Now, and now, Chest-pound and shout Great sons and daughters Of Bongo Square, The boundary stone of patient wait Must be put in place To sprout the venom of revolution In veiled Virgins of timing minutes. False Friends Once he slit the godhead With a carving knife, But once he was called To join the looters, Budgets rolled, Castles rose and ladies fell, And cheeks filled up And chins grew double, He hailed the godhead Solomon incarnate. Brother? Brother we are so different, So different in location and history, So different in height and bulk, So different in thought and tongue. 37 Brother we are so different, So different in body and soul, So different in mind and heart, So different in look and deeds. Brother we are so different, So different in greed and frugality, So different in falsehood and honesty, So different in taste and haste. So, don’t ever call me brother, Cause we are so different, So different to be called twins, So different to be called one. The Interred In Senegal If a man dies at home, His body concretises his death, His widow, friends and well-wishers, With choice flowers adorn his corpse. They shave clean and wear sackcloth, And cry aloud as they mourn his death. They wail on mats or dusty benches, And rend their clothes in grief. But If a man dies abroad and is there interred, Nothing concretises his death, Nobody ever mentions his name. That Creates a terrible vacuum, That gags his wife and children, ...