(First published on Turquoise Monster)

I sit beneith the flame tress

Sipping mango juice

Wanting oogarly

In it’s milky sweetness

The sky is odd here

But not as different as I thought

Edges too sharp

The ground glitters

Earth red and orange

With large flat grey stones

Ox pull carts

With solum eyed boys

At their heads

I watch water being pumped

Orange and reeking

Into a truck

Destination – Towns drinking water

I sigh

My once white underwear

Streaked and stained

Because of that water

The too thin man opposite me

Thanks me once more

Bright teeth in dark face

He pushes the question again

Stay – teach our children

I feel the pang

I can not

I am home sick already

Go – he says

Become the geologist I train to be

Come back – he says

Dig wells

I sigh and look

Too equatorial skies

Wondering if I ever will

Come back to this land

He smiles

“You like the flame trees?”

I nod

“The seeds make good earrings”

And he is leaving

Taking the medical supplies with him

I look at my glowing

White hands

With bitten nails

I am 19 years old

I quell the guilt

By filling a press sill bag

Full of dark, round seeds

And dream

Of saving the world

Posted: Thursday, December 2nd, 2010 @ 12:09 pm
Categories: Verse.
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