the basil is wilting

the house is still quiet this morning, its early, even the dog is still asleep. she is curled up around my cobalt-blue gum boots. (the ones that i wear in the garden and were purchased in wobolunzi-town. the ones i intend to take back to the usa in a few months as a functional reminder.) … Continue reading the basil is wilting

c25k catch-up post

happy (late) solstice! which i suppose also means "happy summer!" to kick off this summer season i've been working out erratically. a few weeks ago when in kampala i visited the fitness centre at the "mzungu mall" (garden city) and had a stellar work out involving a kick-butt treadmill workout where i ran 2 miles … Continue reading c25k catch-up post

poetry: 2

the smell of dried fish is a pungent and undeniable land-mark-- 
hold your breath, keep walking straight and you might find fruit. unripe and stringy mangos, 
a small pineapple, 
face-pinching-sour yellow passion fruits. but today there is no fruit, 
tonight i will dream of pink lady apples and white peaches.

poetry: 1

over ripe matooke spills out into the street
smelling sweet and fermented,
as mama turns around to take stock of her screaming child,wailing for fear of the back-firing boda--
for fear of the pale and unfamiliar face
for fear of all of the unknowns in the world that tend to make children wail.