West End

 I remember the house at West End 

that harboured me in my teenage years

close to the Hospital, farther down Video Mars

Where the effeminate  guy would look at us with joy because our eyes were pure

and where he would look at us in despair when he saw that we now knew

WEST END 

Where we could only dream of the time we would get the perms

at the Black and White Supermarket

and the buses would drive from Baga Road to Costain

next to us was the Chadian Embassy

with the Chadian with the saddest crush 

and the trees with the sweetest guavas.

I remember walking down to Video Mars

renting the latest Blockbusters

and Bala would drop by, and we would talk about Chase and other books

Books were the escape from the dreariness of the mundane 

I remember the house at West End with its white gates and falling leaves

A past I detested, 

A past I long for