Oral East Africa
My gods
Look at me
Like gelded phantoms
From the ruins of their tombs
As I supplicate to foreign gods
And they serve me well
Maybe better
My deities toss and turn
Trying to catch my attention
Managing momentary accessibility
In my carnal extremism
Like the explosivity
Of orgasm
Or innate desire for belonging
To the depth of surreal realms
The black gods
Half buried
In condemnation of their own
Call to me for redemption
When am most incompetent
Volatile and overestimated
Even to myself
