A History of Disappearance


By Sarah Lubala

There are days
we can’t go back for
the summer the river ran dry
a row of white jacaranda
the mouth of March
bruised with longing

How brave we were
we made from scratch
we prayed aloud
we buried our dead

How foolish we were
to refuse our inheritance
the long rope of men
in our blood
our fathers’ weaknesses

How the days
steal all they can
the gap in my teeth
my mother’s conjurings
whole volumes of poetry

You
who asks too much
who hunts at daybreak
who eats the air

call off your dogs
let me sleep


Sarah Lubala is a Congolese-born South African development worker, currently working for an education NGO in Johannesburg. Her poems have been published in Type/Cast, Brittle Paper and The Missing Slate, and are forthcoming in Prufrock

Photo on 2016-10-19 at 16.17 #3.jpg