Fragment 23


Awonoor, you have happened afterwards.

I have something to say, because your death has not yet come.

The Great Valley split, Ghana built interstellarways to Enceladus ,dark paths rocketing from Accra to Port New Wheta. You are now lyrics of the No.3 hit song, anyways, I watched the hands point to the sky on Naivasha Beach, a crab clawed my knee on Nairobi Beach, cut me there and I stained the sea.

Your voice thunders from the stereo clouds, beaches apart, they roaring, Reggie Rockstone’s lip-syncing, they sweating, they fucking in the open Africa, in the crowds, buttocks scouring the sands, I kiss you baby, lips lap the Nairobi Sea shore, they point their hands to the sky, they howling in your voice, Ghanaian, because there are smiles in their mouths not even halfway sorrowful, they national anthem, woman, Awonoor, it’s your hit song:

I believe in light and day

I believe in women and the gods

You have sons to fire the seperewas now that you are really alive, and your daughters wail because you never closed your mouth.

Fifty million from radionomy Kampala, fifty million from shuttle repair shops Eldoret. Fifty million years and the Valley split, and they are grieving for your living soul at the balafongala concert.

I take a step and sink to my knees, force a crab out of its hole, it claws my knees, a cut, blood, I stain the sea, Me Ka, Awonoor.


Tonight, my mother is cooking me tindoda nu shaak, and in the kitchen she sings thousand year old gujurati folk songs. She was there when you were there. She didn’t hear them come, she just took the lifts and went up. Somewhere down, you were becoming smaller as she rose.


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