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08.08.2017, we have questions; for you.

a child in lucky summer tries to wake his brother up

he’s been dead for three minutes and a second!

mayoooo” is our cover for “haki iwe ngao na...”

the only mlinzi here is your ability to hold your breath.



hold up:


they check the number of your teeth
(at recruitment) in Kiganjo!

what’s the tone of the voice that calls a young man to serve in the police, in the military,

in kenya?

does it sound like amakhosi in ngcuka and langa

or the voice of spirits in haunted houses in leicester?



32 teeth.


–this. is not a biting competition!–



over the sky in baba dogo
and kondele, and
area 4, and
bombolulu, and
migori is a cloud,
raining bullets. tonight.


what were we

in 1969



went to kisumu?

Categories: Poetry

Neo Musangi

i like to think of myself as a stubborn non-human organism experiencing existential nightmares as though i were human. after numerous almost-failed attempts at long-form, i now call myself a poet (which i use as an excuse to be cynical about life).

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