Forget the Past

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Let me see you, Africa,
Shrouded in cloud and mist.
My mother limps to see you,
Clutching father’s arm til it bleeds.

From the Rock of Gibraltar,
We walk up, up, up!
We take the steep route
Because that is life.

On Prince Philips Gate,
We are rushed at by
Mommy Macaque and her babe
And scream.
We laugh til we cry
And walk some more.

Let me hold this moment,
The blue sky,
the flesh speckled with stucco,
Two continents.
So much blood for this fucking rock,
And the ability to see the horizon.
I hide behind my birth bliss
And smile at the view,
Forget the past,
I am a tourist.