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Digging for tubers Of barren cassavas The root of our fingers Uprooted Skulls…             And then… Femurs…tibias… Carpals…tarsals… Ribs…metacarpals… Hips…metatarsals… Of seething ghosts Whose spirits Trail our homes Traverse the forests And have no rest Buried in pieces In wide dugouts And trenches Remembered by none Save the termites Which file pass Their dry bones In one long scribble Spelling their life’s Achievements in Twisted epitaphs Their assassins Being our Armageddon shall Taste no death on earth But shall live into The eternity of hell Well deserved When man exacts Judgement unto man His measure is the Firmament’s expanse Which his eyes Cannot size or behold His expectations are The seas whose borders Our brains cannot Point out or stake Pinoche unto Chileans Milosovic’s Serbs unto Yugoslavs’ Albanians Majority Hutus unto Tutsis Hitler’s heinous Holocaust Juiced just for Jews Foday Sanko and his Hand-cutting RUF...

Hi to all my readers and followers, Work took me farther into the villages of Ghana for over a month and these are places where access to the internet is almost nonexistent. Consequently I have not been able to update my blog as often as I used to do.  However, I am still reading and hope to update the blog when I complete the book I am reading.