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41 John Nkemngong Nkengasong In Memory of Dr Philip Agendia A savage tale no tongue could tell fell from the cracks of dark Sunday morning ‘‘Agendia is dead and gone’’ crushed on the tarmac of an ill-fated day Tall and sturdy, he was the robust dream and the ebony art of Fuandem’s hand the meaning of his life was putting meaning in the lives of others I mourn a friend I mourn a friend who was more than a friend a youthful guru snatched from the steaming breast of life and only his works remain to mourn the living. Lac Municipal I long to swim out of the lake where stands the still morbid swamps where drunkards purge crammed bowels where street dames hurl unripe births where assassins rinse treacherous knives I long to come away from the lake and sail to the foot of Lebialem Falls there I’ll sit on a mighty rock and listen to the ceaseless melody of the tireless drumbeats of the waterfall I’ll sail away, sail away to Lebialem Falls and dance and whirl and jump and sing and hail the squirrels and the crows ...

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