by Anna Kapunga

Waiting for Death

Smell the flesh in the vents
Blue sky through the grid laced windows
I cannot bear the tears
The date no-one tells
Do not know what day it is
The sun rises
Time I do not see
Never had vacations
Reason to myself, my situation speaks
A language that is my own, changeless
Next cell, joy lives
The crazy dog at night who giggles
No letters on Monday mornings
In the week, I fast many days

—–

Anna Kapunga’s work has appeared in Pegasus, Onepersonstrash Magazine, Adelaide Literary, Aadun Journal, Austin Macauley, United Press UK, Eber and Wein Publishers USA, Forward Poetry UK, The Sentinel Journal Magazine, and The Eustere Journal.

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