Went to buy a birthday card
returned instead with imitation
flowers for my computer, a bright
pink tulip, a soft peach rose
look at my squatter camp office,
flowers swaying in the air-con
breeze, needing only verse
enhancing idyll atmosphere
Romance sustaining me while
transcribing agriculture in Burkina
Faso – my progress so slow I will
be here a hundred years
every moment feels a week in bed
nightmares torture my soul when I
remember this boring tract of
husbandry and geology
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem