Kinshasa

Ndombolo gunned words
camouflage shorts, weapons
balanced on tight hips
oil drum muscles ripped from shoulder,
back a sinuous river swelling, and
thick veined branches
clutching machetes

Here Cassius Clay consecrated Ali
pouring palm wine onto greedy earth
everything spoken in Congo river gurgling
over wet rocks and discarded tin cans
up and down
and up again
Kwasa, Kwasa

In neighborhoods of
rusted zinc held down with stones
young girls pop moves in the street
before the clouds burst
and their bare feet sink into
red earth.