I wish I was in Zanzibar
to walk upon its sand
to feel the impressions of poems
that explode within my palms
and all the ink that baths upon
and calls itself anew
is but a shower of raging sunlight
that drags my heart askew
I wish I was in Zanzibar
to walk upon its sand
to feel his beutiful fingers
entwined within my hand
my arms stretch out above my head
I really do love him
But know that he is dead
I wish I was in Zanzibar
to feel its gentle waves
its foam like Can Can dancers
performing on a stage
and one day soon
I am going to have to go there
and then they all will know
that I am a boy, a mere pretender
in slow motion in the show
and here I will look for butterflies
as I make my way to school
and claim the part of intelligence
or perhaps that of  fool
I think in velvet red
and dream of the day it will be me
naked upon the stage
I wish I was in Zanzibar
to feel its gentle rage
and put my palm to ink and pen
and write upon its page
I wish I was in Zanzibar
its where I wish to go
to play all day upon the sand
and be in its strange and wonderful show