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"benga" poems
‘That would be nice,’ you say, So, we cross the quicksilver city. We step, like tipsy teenagers, Into a basement of Kisii and Kikuyu, Sunshine dresses Swaying to the Benga music, Like cruise ships. Oh, exuberant one: The fire in your heart spills out sparks As you spin and turn across the floor. ‘Dance for the children,’ you say, ‘Dance for the future’. Magnificent Mercy, With your intergalactic smile, You make all the sense in the world.
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Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC
simon-piesse
Charity Dance
‘That would be nice,’ you say, So, we cross the quicksilver city. We step, like tipsy teenagers, Into a basement of Kisii and Kikuyu, Sunshine dresses Swaying to the Benga music, Like cruise ships. Oh, exuberant one: The fire in your heart spills out sparks As you spin and turn across the floor. ‘Dance for the children,’ you say, ‘Dance for the future’. Magnificent Mercy, With your intergalactic smile, You make all the sense in the world.
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