The Rules in a Perfect

The gables of houses align
From one block to the next,
And from porches beneath them hang
Two person swings painted white.

A breeze would cool them.
Marigolds also would shake
Their yellows.

The cars are quiet when they pass.
There is no thump of music,
Or unkept muffler sounds.
The sky is undivided by the
Vapors of airplanes.


I promised these mouthwords
At the refuge camp in Nigeria.
The mothers stared at the gospel
Of my words. We filled out
The immigration forms, and applied
For vaccines,
Until the camp was strafed
One midnight.

The agency flew me back
To Nairobi. In the neon
Dance clubs, I peddled
My winning lies
To the braless girls
In skirts and sandals.