Kondele
there is an air of despair
here
a thick lingering cloud
of hopelessness
an amen to whatever life brings
this air mingles with music too loud
the smell of spirits
and of cheap cigarettes
its like a thousand blankets
spread above this very sky
in Kondele
and under it
where we sit
a hot, pasty air hangs
fills and clogs the lungs
for so long
you forget if ever
fresh air did exist
this place
is full of contented poverty
missing all the good things
and feeling no loss
people cruising through a life
so full of indifference
that being dead and living
are one and the same thing
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