OPEN POST CARD FROM FARAWAY COUNTRY

It is a bitch no break

A purple mysterious bitch

to make a poem in this Library

The ghosts of poets escape book covers

And hover over my shoulder

And snitch to the god of the dead.

Their words are not much read here.

Their memories rust in the mold.

I am alone and cold.

 

Besides, I am covered with the cloak of Jah

All the gods I follow are women

And they are all living gods

When I seek just one

I look into the eyes of my mother

Or the eyes of my lover.

–Dia Ajanaku