borned bound i borned
and bound again
then i borning borned
re-bound again 

this drumm i beating on me
(for Bud Powell) 

strolling wandered ‘round this
feeling for where sump’n that it warm
dimming moist repensive eyes
staring here over there
reaching at one another
‘cross soft woodening faces
burnt burning cold

but this some thing in here
that it trying to keep on wombing
swelling all up in me
that this dark swollen hold
that undulating my soul
and perpetrating this mould
this thing what it give me this cover
making me making me made
too numb to dare

hands they with no fingers
reaching out of they bones
fulling white rings smeared
‘round dark hungry mouths
who they running and running
from they running and running
and running and running
they nursing and nursing the fearing-d-ing
what onto that that they held
that they holding on
snacked-on here eating
in swallowing undergrounds

but this some thing in here
that it trying to keep on wombing
swelling all up in me
that this dark swollen hold
that undulating my soul
and perpetrating this mould
this thing what it give me this cover
making me making me made
too numb to dare

Copyright © 2003 Asili Ya Nadhiri