In Zanzibar
Fruit falls from trees–
Like shimmering coins–
And is trampled underfoot.

No one wants to sell it
When tourist dollars
Taste so much sweeter.

In Zanzibar
Living is cheap
But being a peacock
Is free.

Proud muscles;
Proud feathers…
Looks the same to me.

In Zanzibar
The clock starts
At 6 o’clock–
It’s rarely on time.

The sunset is melted caramel
On heaving tides,
But no one wakes for sunrise.

In Zanzibar
If you read between the lines
Hakuna matata doesn’t really mean
No worries.

In Zanzibar
Glittering veils drape
Over hair piled high,
But eyes are dull.

In Zanzibar
Alcohol is haram
But Konyagi is cheap–
The rules change at night.

In Zanzibar
The sky is heavy
And God is white.

In Zanzibar
Pole pole’ is a slogan
Crafted from handicap.

In Zanzibar.
The rain is sudden.

In Zanzibar.
The colors are hard.

In Zanzibar.
Life is white and black.

In Zanzibar.
Paradise has cracks.

In Zanzibar… In Zanzibar… In Zanzibar.

In Zanzibar
Fruit falls from trees,
And I want to pick it up.