I walk Mangoche's dusty roads <br />And wait for rain <br />Among the children <br />Gathered there <br />Hands outstretched, <br />Reaching for god <br />The mzungu’s <br />Paltry alms <br />Eden’s manna <br />Silver coins. <br /> <br />Once proud Nubians <br />Graced these shores <br />When rains fell free, <br />Before dry winds of Ra <br />Baked the land, <br />Shriveled chocolate skin <br />Made wide these eyes <br />In which their fathers died, <br />Burned their mothers’ ulcerated forms <br />Turning love to death. <br /> <br />I stand among them <br />Eat the flies nesting in their eyes <br />Feel my bowels spill upon the ground <br />Their tiny mouths <br />Breathe in tears of god <br />Rained down too late, <br />Tears that drown the fields of corn <br />Their parents sowed, <br />Drown the taste of life. <br /> <br /> <br />They gaze at me <br />Through this dust and filth <br />From which they rose. <br />They watch me die <br />Before their eyes I <br />Watch them <br />Die before their time. <br /> <br /> <br />1/29/2005<br /><br />Bob Bowers<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/turning-love-to-death/
