New poem: Church

My mother said that the night I was born the

church burnt down. I told people: ‘The night

I was born the church burnt down.’ I heard

people say it, ‘The night he was born, the

church burnt down.’ I thought that I did it. I

said, ‘Can we go and see the place where

I was born?’

‘What’s the matter with you?’ my mother

said, ‘why do you keep asking to see the

place where you were born? What do you

think? It wasn’t good enough?’