4.
before abandoning my fatherland/ i must first dignify this
departure with marble and granite/
bribe someone to chip Here lies a beloved beneath the carving of an
angel etched above April 14th
1958—July 28th 1999. but of course/ Lusaka City Council has lost
his plot/ on the old Leopards’ Hill / i have to bribe somebody and
then another somebody to retrieve
the tattered death registry/ leaf pages/ walk backwards/
Of course, I remember the date i tell the third somebody
3.
i must first eulogize 20 years too late
locate K & scroll/ should i use his English name
before his Bemba one/ Fuck you to his mantra/bitter laugh dance
in my gut/
an African must not bear a white man’s name. I can’t find him/
Damnit Dad/
2.
KA/KAB/KAC/KAL/
a fourth somebody is pacing/ How far madam? squeezing Lusaka
humidity with are you sure about the date?
fyola, but not loud enough for this somebody to hear my teeth kiss.
i’m sure/ about all the exhausted wailing when i walked into the
funeral house/ of
Maama’s breath hitching/God. You look just like your father—just
yesterday was her baby. i’m sure about the cortége of deaths smirk
inside the hearse/ i’m sure of the fresh wounds in the
earth & flame trees bowing around winding dirt paths/
still/ I can’t find him.
1.
not without a mirror to say/
There is our nose daughter
the birthmark we share on our philtrum.
There, lips lined black from his smoking, racing through my mother
to darken mine too.
There is the dark behind our eyes, which splinters every time we laugh.
