Down
By Clifton Gachagua

down to the pool
of green,
children curved
from stone,
leaves the summary
of their sexes
a dead man
lives in the waterpump room.
the man in the field
whips his body
with burnt wicker,
his movement coded
by the after effect
of prescription medicine.
either that or
the collective
dreaming of monarch
butterflies.
singular column of smoke and raisin.
the mother snake eats her children.
[intermission]
someone
takes a photograph
of the mans
sleeping body—
lungs rising,
dreaming
of a wedding.
you come back
to my arms.


Clifton has been published in Obsidian, +doc, ANMLY, Prism, Glassworks,
the87press, Africa39, Manchester Review, 20.35, Africa Writers Trust,
Saraba, Jalada, Kwani?, Harvard Divinity Journal, Poetry Foundation, The Gonjon Pin and Other Stories,
AfroSF, Sunspot Jungle, PEN America, Debunk Media.