We Don’t Die, We are Killed (or the Grammar of Violence)

October 16, 2013

I will be walking along Kimathi Street on a Tuesday night
I will have spoken about homosexuality and oppression
On the night they closely walk behind me 
Close enough to not be ignored
I will have had a few drinks with the other three
I will have listened to karaoke
the good and the bad
I will be in a good mood
They will keep walking behind me
Behind us

I will start getting scared
walking too close for comfort
And they will be talking about me
As I walk along Kimathi Street on a Tuesday night
They will tell each other about me
And I will remind self that they do not know me
They will say that I am a shoga [gay] and they will swear in God’s name
Haki ya Mungu tutamuua
They will talk about killing me
They will keep walking behind me
Behind us

I will quickly run for male priviledge on a Tuesday night
My friend will notice and overhear them
And he will quickly walk between them and I
I will feel safe with him
They will talk about killing me
As we stop to let them pass
I will be dead to myself
When I get home
We wait

 Comments: 2

  1. Pingback:Brainstorm | Memory Serves You Wrong

  2. Pingback:Brainstorm | Memory Serves You Wrong

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *