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The Lights in Zanzibar.

 You say the idea of collecting shells off the coast of Kenya-South
Coast- is a fantasy of an animal looking for its conscience in sand.
You'd like to spend your life near the big lake but not close
enough to hear the lapping of waves against naked stone. Our lives
revolve around ambition and a force like a minister speaking at a
funeral wake.
 At night, when you walk down the coast at low tide, you can see the
light in Zanzibar. A string of beads on the seceding land, receding salt
water.
       At night you can see the bodies floating in the water, swept up
by the currents- the bodies of drowned men clutching their wives'
clutch bags- all the way from Zanzibar.
The reef is an imaginable wall of resistance, put up by dreams of
drowned ferries. In the paper it said the ferry moaned like a whale.
Some salty music Before its last dive. I call you from kilometres away,
to ask you about leaving for the South Coast Where, if it dark enough,
you an see the light in
                                               Zanzibar. 
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Title Annotation:Poetry: A SPECIAL SECTION OF CONTEMPORARY AFRICAN
Author:Gachagua, Clifton
Publication:Black Renaissance/Renaissance Noire
Article Type:Poem
Date:Mar 22, 2014
Words:215
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