LIFE OF OREOFE (ISLAY)

The priest was instantly caught in my line of view, crawling towards us like the millipede I saw in my prison cell yesterday, as if giving me more time to enjoy life simple pleasures, such as the scorching sun blazing above my head. Christian it was, they didn’t even ask me who I wanted present for my final rites. They just assumed I was a Christian. The army officers, five of them all had red eyes that carried the burden of what they were about to do and the unspeakable things they had done. I was not remorseful. Some people say you

  FAT OF THE LAND The street is littered with filth,  Wares put out on display,   flies hovering about. Seller’s with eyes that have beheld so much horror and struggle,   foot wares that have trekked miles,   all crying, come, buy our goods.                                                     Then they enter with their noses up high,  hailed by the very people who despise them,  riding in their posh cars,  Looking well fed and rounded,  despising the very filth they arose from. With their hands in their pockets,  they grab wads upon wads of money bills,