projecting
it is madness to live
without joy
and a whole host
of other things –
sneakers flipped on
slipped into jacket
to join festivities
of the night serene –
plodding through
sands of Sanchaba,
tree lined baobabs
don’t look the same
dangling
from a steel blue sky –
humble corruption
draws me in – i hear
reggae music thumping
the stars twinkling
i’ve been to every
club enticing on
this strip…..
at last i see
neon lights flashing
before me –
a tall lady draws
her compound gate
quietly shut
mini skirt immediate
long legs stabled
by stiletto heels
plaited hair fine
her perfume sharp,
insignificant
i brush past her
and she asked:
are you heading to
the throbbing scene?
i will stroll with you,
the senses kick in
(secretly so)