JAPA

 

I was sold a dream of riches,  of streets paved with gold,

 of the immigrants dreams

My streets became too small for me, 

My friends steeping stones for this quest to this el-Dorado

So I stole, lied, cheated scrimped and saved , to be insta-ready and tik-tok cool

Japa was my dream

The whispers came in bits and pieces

Of  the dysfunctional relationships of the  Japarians who killed their spouses

Affected by the alienation of affection, subjugated patriarchy,

Of the  men who could not speak 

and  women who had grown wings

I had known  of the toilet cleaners and mortuary attendants,

urban legends, not my portion

My path would be different, or so I thought

But I saw then the cold eyes beneath the cold smiles

The  repressed anger from my distant kin

The zombied streets full of the living dead

The streets paved with work , taxes and debt

The more I aged, the less I saw, the more I worked

My friends who I left behind had grown up in the hole

And thrived,  their eyes full of  ease with life, 

They ruled the hole, happy fools

Who drank on Saturdays, fornicated with PYTs,  danced in church on Sundays

and watched their children grow

I  remain  supplanted in Japa Land