Message At Giza
by Ajise Vincent


Yester night, at the tunnel beside the pyramid of Giza,
I met a boy whose only source of nutrition
is the mucus from his leaking nose & tears from his raining eyes.
He broke my chain of ignorance & told me tales --
Tales of how the noun called people is modified by adjectives of sufferance;
Tales of how the land has been barren and now seeks fertilizers called policies;
Tales of how the Nile of our shamed-past drowns any cargo of fulfillment.
He told me tales of how devils now cast spells of chaos using the rod of Moses. Abracadabra.







Copyright © 2024 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.