Waterforest

The rain falls in torrents
That glean the streets
And when in that undecided sum
Sharp blongs of sun rundown
It all ends with a sunny blast
Railing all hopes for a cool day

This is so much destruction
I lie in some blind turmoil
Groaning at the tatters that was-
my latest collection of verse
the viscera of earth
spluttered and gaping
groaning and laughing-
silly war, who will live to tell it all
when you kill me-
I know what its like
the war trench in my mind is fresh-
cannot save me-can it?
From missiles that assault me.

You can assemble me to run
like an elite machine
In a cushion of theories
I can coast along endlessly
making a melody to every of your muse;
this is no school for me
standing here desperate to rot
sludges of broken ego
sauntering…waving in the midday sun
Idly sketching your next thought
building what they can call you,
you could be anything my pen wishes
If you let me-
What is this politics of referendums,
and of Kammpala’s streets?
That give me tranquil in the hours I wander
on streets with hidden souls
Buildings-
Moonlight-
This is Pilkington Road
unhurrying in its ascent
to meet Nile Avenue,
the shadows craftily beckoning
to some quick pleasure,
the few lights of Kampala
blazing in a lighted chord
a vehicle scuttling out of some shadow
to blast its way along the blank road.
A madman strutting on the pavement
Singing
I could live here forever
If you let me-
This is some destruction
And I lie in some blind turmoil
I cannot fight you anymore
When you decide you are a General
This is not my kind of war
Give me my pencil please-