Late Sigh Jazz Poem by Anitah Muwanguzi

Bones melting like lava

Head reeling with too much info

The TV is droning on in the background with a movie whose title is

alien to me



I hear dogs barkin, and the distant moans of a radio


It’s just leanin towards midnight

That headache from an uncomfortable hunched position is catching on

The laptop on my laps sighs in contentment


The debate on whether or not I should call it a night

I am zonked, and my mind is in a state of euphoria

I don’t have insomnia, no

I just think best after midnight

When my body signs out and my mind signs in


As the night sighs into deep dark morning

It feels like jazz music

A volcano of sensation desperate for exploration

The night sighs in contentment

And like a cat licking whipped cream off its whiskers

I embrace exhaustion and tuck in.