I took a hot bath
on the equator
thinking
about the british girl
upstairs
her perfect white teeth
and
'should I see them again, or
would she see me again?'
while I watched
the tiny motorcycles and the
painted taxis,
the brilliant blues and the greenery
the beautiful black people,
all browning under the Kenyan sun.
at one point, I forgot her name.

a large garbage truck
overflowing with garbage
drove under my balcony
and sitting on top of the pile,
four men wearing business suits
then they were gone -
chased down the street by birds.
as I watched it go,
her room left my mind.

the sun crawled behind the hotel
below, the faces pulling rickshaws
the faces carrying fruits
women in beads,
men sweating it all out.

I checked in another night

'those teeth' I thought,
'I might match a name to them'
but I didn't.
and the light shone from the
rooftops, the engines
and horns of the street came to my window.
it was 9 a.m. on a monday,
it's not all bad.