Writing

 

Karrayyuu Hotel night

 

Drinking St Georges beer in the shade

of the top floor of the Karrayyuu hotel

watching vultures and black kites

perform smooth spiralling turns

on updrafts above the Matahara

slaughter house while the sun sets

on the caldera of Mount Fantalle.

In darkness the truck stop is a death stop

in the dance room hard rock plays

harsh shrieking uncontrolled laughter

hookers bump and grind and shine

glistening with sweat and AIDS reigns

at each stop the virus spreads.

We lie under a skagged mosquito net

sleep evades us as we lie listening

for that high pitched whine in the din

of the rhythm of the pounding bass.

Death comes and falls in many forms

in a truck stop on the deep rutted Djibouti road

in the dried out summer of the Rift Valley.

Everyone waits for rain.

 

©RobCullen