these streets of sarah baartman
nina simone, dulcie september
boulevards of james baldwin
these hard roads swept by
sekoto’s brush
citadel; your belltowers & domes
a collective memorial to
human rights; on grey days
dreams and hopes
surge upwards
against a ribbed skyline
t/here where
scientists honed their gaze – sideways
along the spine of the nose
the formulas
trying to define,
to measure, to calculate
who can enjoy egalite (as
filling between hunks of
moon and sun or
plain bread)
i came
to find other truths
amid branded words, finessed tastes & eye-wide shapes
i came seeking
ways of perceiving, the delving, the ways to know
the twisted journeys of art
i came to dig
their treasures
but …
your basic scent pervades the metro
your shadows
lay their (finger)prints
over trimlines, neon adverts & bunting
and when the lights shrivel
in galleries; the cafes go silent
their chairs stacked
the last waterborne-carriage departed
to overnight moorings
from the footpaths
to and from RER and waterways
past endless glass windows & concrete paving
& miles of lines
in my eyes
gentle whispers
lilting sounds, arias & calls of longing from the animals
of mountains and open plains
a-sail on the evening air: your names
touch ears, nape of neck, the pulsing folds
of this
corrugated heart
when i leave
what parts
will be tatooed on my brain
tricolours bordered in shweshwe cloth
a story ringed
by silvia's dreams and o.r.'s marks
sewn by singer needles
that clash mid-note:
who am I, algeria, haiti or reunion?
Oct 2017
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