I inhabit the greying sidelines

I inhabit the grief of the rose

I inhabit the soft lie under lipstick

I inhabit the fur of every animal

I inhabit the centre of the sun

I inhabit the spittle of anger

I inhabit the memory loss of me


Once upon a time

I shouted and swore at The Man

loved beneath sheets for balm

held out hands of kindness


Not to fall into the empty pit

of the quiet-lived dead

not to lose lustre and play dumb

not to obey and be dutiful

not to adore the false gods

not to be government compatible

not to be infatuated with a flash bulb

I inhabit a life

to demonstrate my revulsion to lies

to let my repugnance blossom

my abhorrence take wings

With acknowledgement to Aimae Cesaire who wrote Lagoonal Calendar