I Still Live Here

I still here in the land of my mother Though my brothers deny siblings sweet life in this land of milk and honey the streams of sweet life flows on. The powerful fly away as bats, when the sun has put her nose on pillow but come back when bed bugs bite them in the land they did not suckle its udders Those born with three bags of seeds between them, tear their way through the grids of orderly life taking the delicious liver of the land of my mother swallowing it alone without care and shame Chocking and burning their throats as often happens they spit and hold their throats in tears. As the pain bites and reminds them of their injustice, dogs appear from the jungles and enjoy the disturbed share