INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Alan Britt
Lisa Schmidt
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STRANGE FRUIT --for Mbella Sonne Dipoko That day news of your death spread in the streets, They remembered, the ones still living, of The long beard that frightened them, And the pair of sandals or slippers That completed your image. And For those knowledgeable, who Read your erotic tales that incited Retribution and threatened the mass Distribution of your novels, they Knew, suddenly, what light had left Our community. SONG FOR THE EVER-PRESENT ONE Each morning you appear in the sky, The glow of your teeth exalts all Creatures finding hope in the earth's pleasures. This is the moon's oration pronounced By the sun and pledged by the winds, When the affairs of dawn corners dreamers And the meditation of the vagrant becomes One with Bob Marley singing, "the sun Will shine in my day today. The high yellow moon Will come out play." PORT HARCOURT NIGHTS IN JULY/AUGUST Rain anointed our feet; Aroma of roasting plantain, fish and corn Courted our nostrils. We Dreamt of tomorrow In each other's arms And wrestled fears Each time we kissed and hugged To say goodnight, Pretending we controlled cupid's siren, Only to confess via email Of how two little birds discovered From a tree branch The pains of joy.
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