shadows drunken slowly drifting
empty bellies full of crippled little legs
and poking out round
like those big bulging eyes there begging
for all those standing in alligator shoes
with their backs turned
pissing ‘long the side of the road
and brother man brother man coming here in our hands
rows there full of little white shacks
rolling pale ivory bones with tiny eyes black
in colored aprons spread over rheumatism knees
spillling through the dark in a naked moonlight
full of one-legged dancers in greasy round bowls
and brother man brother man coming here in our hands
men with no faces under trees with no leaves
mumbling ‘bout things they’ve never ever heard
warmed over lies and homemade words
rhythmic mimes and a pocket full of times
and brother man brother man coming here in our hands
and brother man brother man coming here in our hands
and brother man brother man coming here in our hands
Copyright © 1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri