Down Under Irimu’s Step

Your suicide is slit wrists

Pokes and piercings

Hunger pangs

Yanking the one you

Thought was yours

Hanging under the mango tree

Ever so green

Yours is eighteen years alive

Spewing the bowels from the crevice of the inner lining

After the fourth bend.

Your suicide is diving headfirst

Into the tar packed gravel

In razor sharp water

Free for all

Freedom from the bounds

Of earthly realms

That Irimu once stomped

Down

Down,yours is a little wet.

by Ray Mwihaki