Do not dig your own grave,
The dark clouds shall soon clear.
A man never sleeps
Where he shits.

Grab this fragile heart,
Wrap it in a fresh-pack.
Squeeze love’s sweetest juice
In silence.

Dig harder & deeper
For you refuse to dream higher & louder.
The halitosis hits you in the nose
And you stand on the cusp of a cataclysm.

Please do not dig too deep, Chongo,
Do not even use sharp hoes & picks.
Just dig deep enough
To cover your feet.

Dig, but love is a deep hole
Hiding termites and reptiles.
Surely you need not know
How many pregnancies she terminated
That she flies over the roof at night . . .

Listen to Bila,
Griot from the land of the drum,
Of the resounding throbbing drum –
With words brighter than the stars,
The living are no angels.