Deplaning

Deplaning

When shall we alight from this present bus?

We stare at the ceiling and count the times the fan blades whirr;

Waiting for the last call

To stop breathing...

No, we start breaking instead

under the weight of cries from gory scenes

acted by famished neighbours...

These beats remain unyielding, though flogged by fears and fate.

Our worms and the worms make calls and plan to connect soon

if we feed ours not.

When shall this army depart our defeated territories?

Is it when we light the Uhuru Torch by faith?

While we wait, I'll dance to the tune of 'e-go-better'

while we wait,...