Migrant piece Nr.2

September 5th, 2020

As walking exceeds

the speed of speech

So the journey

untells the meanings you’ve built

Around vessels pre-emptied

Streets distant and void

Skeletons, bare concrete

Analogical tools

I am in the city

Name I don’t dare to

Pronouncing my steps

Wet dry naked outside sentence

Palace in ashes

Eyelids fatigued

Have looked at the fires

Was it a war, a riot, a feast?

Sense bellow knees disappears

Words can not but duck

Oh, i wish my wish was way more


Transporting logs of trees that were saved

Buckets of grass

Way outnumbered by cattle

This town more like


If villages hadn’t gone much sooner

Where do i go? as I go

On the sidewalk of a pool

Shooting someone something

Guess bullets were cheap

Locally sourced

Perhaps for the locals

to feed

King and queen but a memory

of a ghost of a shadow

Thick my fat smartly stored

for famine

Iris, rose, whatever the vase

Discoloured white black

White heat

Too white this shade

I dream, I assume, for no thing’s

like this

Quicker the syllables

Can’t outrun the spelling

Must wake up

To walk the way of


The richer they got

The poorer it felt

Power consumed

in expanding extensions

That were bound to contain

endless echoes

instead of a source

The root was dug out

Or were those branches?

Upside down

In contradictory bliss

How know when the known

and the knowing

are unknown?

Ha! to that

which hijacked

the revolution of dreams

Speeches by Selma

My laughter is a

lethal weapon

Or so I hope

In vain

Can’t walk

Won’t wake

And so I decide

To lie down

In sleep

Can’t hurt

Heart closer to earth

Black after sunset

on sunless planet

No laws of physics

can explain this charade

though real, so real

Fuck it

I lay down and let

the mayhem pass

In digital circles

Feedback back on feedback

Hypnotizing this mess

Like mass or the masses

Opus and opium

Get stronger by day

when there is one

to come by

Stop thinking, I’m texting

Birds tweeting




I’m less

of a prophet

Unless time runs backwards

Weird words

Wired lords

to fences

Sheep fucking smiling

So big the mouth

So ready the teeth

Sweet sweat first supper

Last god

No more sons

Come daughters

Dart them

Bull’s eye, circumference

Thing is so bloated

Can’t miss it

And I do miss

nights that

calm and gentle

in vortex

of fury

My furry

My ferry

My sea

Weeds and seeds

My body I had

Transformed past your skin

Different of kin

Same of a kind

Kindly destroying


Grinding the rust off of chains

Imprisoned in our ankles

Invisible, almost accepted

An enhancement of a desire

to dance

I’m still asleep

Not ready to stand

As wretched and the wretchers

Wither with minimum wind

Wind it up

Alas, too hot to augment

the breeze

Chords and cords

Cards and cardiac arrest

Guards do their duty

Cordially errupting in chorus

To protect and serve

Botswanian free range oxen

to western and eastern

upper class

While importing salted

fish bones and heads

for the classless

Masters of unfinished records

Played in virtual imaginary

Listen up

Down with the masters

Lay down your tired bodies

Cool are the weapons

when viewed sideways

Through blades of summer grass

Sun is shining uneasy

Brightly colouring all

the burnt out pigments

Pigs smelling like mint

Menthol in my ale

All is in one

And one is in all

When you sleep in your dream

of sedated dreams

Dogs barking at the pigeons

that drink river waters

A child, a mother, a dad

Sometimes double of each

Ah, how beautiful life is

when death not in here

Wake up!

Dirty rags clinging to body through blood

Wake up!

More sweat lost than water intake

Wake up!

Bones shattered look like hard candy

Wake up!

I’m not a man

I’m a brick

Wake up!

I’m not a man

I’m thousand petals growing out

into rocks and lowroads concrete

I’m not a man

I’m acid

I’m countless snowflakes landing

on the summer beaches and into your saunas

I’m not a man

I walk

My desire is that we

come round

and as you speak

I autotune the vowels

Promting us to sing

I’m not a man

I run

My desire is that we share

the soil that’s not ashes

And when you grow peppers

I add salt to it

So our bloodpressure rises

To that of the angels

that escaped godly fires

I’m not a man

I have dreams

But my nightmares

are faster

Irrespective of my desire

The carnage continues

As I’m no longer able to fall

Asleep in my sleep

Standing someplace in

the city

I feel my legs disappear

to the tune of clapping hands

Properly handled by security


I’m not a man

We know

That’s why we are packing you

I’m not a man

I am poet

My desire is for somebody

To wake instead of me

And do it like it should be 

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