poetry critical : poem

Mzee Moon

jerotich

The portly moon hangs low,	1
full and reclining over Nairobi.	2

He tucks in the babies	3
as they squall in the slums,	4

and lights the rutted path home	5
for the men who drink their bus fare.	6

To me, he leans back and asks,	7
"nipatie chai?"	8

I don't answer, but I sip my own mug;	9
and let my eyes wander to counting	10

the stars who attend him soundlessly,	11
like polygamous wives.	12

Mzee: respected older man
Nipatie chai?: aren't you going to give me some tea?

4 Mar 07

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starr

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Comments:

I think this is just beautiful.
— starr

here's to the hope that bus careens off a cliff.

nipatie chai?

yes. i'll use an enema.

i went to starbucks and asked for chai. we drink chai.

and they gave me some white liquid vomit.
— bologna

Chai in Kenya is different from what they call chai at Starbucks. Chai in Kenya is what British and Americans call tea.
— jerotich

no shit.

i am afghan.

we call it chai too.

you aren't the only cool kid in the sandbox. but you are the only one that smells of curry and scrotum sweat.
— bologna

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