Another terrible poem I hope nobody who likes literary talent bothers to read. Yet this is some way of dissipating anger at the unjust conversations taking place around me: 'I had a nightmare getting to the doctors,' says the lady, about her cosmetic surgery, on her luxury holiday. I wish to lean over and say... Continue Reading →
In the house of happiness - this Maison du Bonheur - a child tries to learn the Qu'ran, confusing Allah Al Akhbar with Ali Baba, Smiling proudly as his mum and dad laugh from the depths of their stomachs. In this happy place, the war against the harmattan that daily brings its carpet of dust... Continue Reading →
Oh what would it be like to live, in a place where sounds of birdsong are louder than those of people? What would it be like?
'Come on Eileen' plays on a stereo in a town where I have never spoken or heard any English. In a nation where I have not met anyone of Anglophone origin in nearly two weeks. The strange is familiar and the familiar strange hearing Dexys Midnight Runners sing Tuh-Rah-Lu-Rah-Tuh-Rah-Luh-Why-Aye in dulset Brummie tones.
The young black wife of the old white man... ...laughs. At the table, in the restaurant, between the azure swimming pool and the azure sea. Who are we? Are we? to judge...? Human rights answers are not easy. I wish I knew them.