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Boomie Bol

Parrot my foot
and imitate these hands
shriving timbers
from deep down insideThis talk of love
your empty 4 letter word
speaking to my foot
my hand responds as needed

My mouth mirrors yours
in speech or kissing
but what do these lips speak
but echoes?

Traveling down my throat
faster than the speed of light
your shivering echoes leave loss
Lies and much wrong
Your four 4 letter word
Dust in my wind…

And if we must speak of love
I need bigger words
than those four characters
tumbling in the air
trapeze artists
without nets
just skipping past gravity

We cannot fly
we only tumble

By Susan Daniels and Boomie Bol
Boomie Bol in Italics

This poem was initiated by a response to my recent Friday Fictioneers post…between Susan and I the words fell out late at night. Susan is a genius at words so this is…

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African literary studies – changing times, challenges and emergent forms!

Pa Ikhide

Kenneth W. Harrow, distinguished professor of English at Michigan State University pays homage to Professor Pius Adesanmi’s muse – and delivers a rigorous examination of Binyavanga Wainaina’s book, One Day I Will Write About This Place.  He may be reached at

        About a year ago Biodun Jeyifo told me of a conversation he had with one of his Ph.D. students. She had come to his office in a panic, informing him that her advisor had told her that retaining postcolonialism in her project would only hinder her job search, and that it ought not to play a significant role in her dissertation. We were in the throes of asking where the profession was going, how global studies have now become sine qua non for those seeking to teach non-Western literatures. The fragile place of African literary studies was once again called into question: what would it belong to…

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