Figs, If You Really Must Know
some strange vines along the brick wall
cockroach in the sink
fever meaning nothing but
white rice
till finally I snuck out
took one of the blue shared cabs
to the village, tetouan
bought harira, a roasted chicken
and sweets
the men all stared at me white hungry sick
eating consuming their culture
in these hot streets with dirty fingernails
groping for sweets
shbakiya eaten by hands mint tea
moon in the night
filled with sober people
facing west
I am trying yes trying to write about africa
specifically my reception of it.
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