red soil

I sat there

drinking tea with this

hard-core italian

humanitarian worker

and between sips

she kept on talking 

about walking 

lines in Mogadishu 

and loadin' up ak-47's 

...before the war, in Syria, 

that was heaven, she said

-now I know, she's led 

the fast life, 

in broken countries

I know she tried to do right
by the people 

not carin' about the monies;

she said she misses it

she said she doesn't fit into it,
stable living, I be trippin' cos

now she be contemplating 

becoming a fisherwoman

in a tropical land

man, I knew I was on to

something, and walking through 

Tottenham Court Road 

listenin' to 

'land of promise'

I promise you, I thought I knew

that my heart was buried

somewhere deep in Africa
somewhere deep

in Conrad's
Heart of Darkness...