Yam and Chips

I am standing at the bus stop
I want to close my eyes
And have the ocean gently lap me away
To where pea green mists seep through my thoughts
And washes them in clarity
Flooding me

Ebbing and flowing away from the city
Past the moment, the history
And see myself through a pale blue light in the mirror
Kissing my stomach, embracing my frame
Paying compliments to the ability of my being

Ebbing and flowing away from the village
Past the future, the present
The machinations of construct
And hear the innocent laughter at the dawn of life
Before awareness crept in and displaced me in my own homes
And feel the harmony of the rhythm before the diaspora

Ebbing and flowing away from the morals
Past the religion, the culture
The systems of tribalism
Pacing at the bus stop
The token pawn for the 9 to 5’ers
And followed lovingly round department stores

Ebbing and flowing through mis-placement
Through fragmentation, the suppositions
Into confusion of identity
Sobbing at the bus stop
Wearing adidas sneakers and a purple buba
Knowing its chips for tea at mummys’
And yam on Tuesdays at daddys’

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