Through feverish dreams of women and wine, I sing a song of change.
Lady Luck mocked me with rear-end water,
And promises of a continent afar seemed to fade into painful loneliness
So i sing a song of change, and my feet move east
A continent connected with mine, What convenience!
A trip planned for books turns sour when people around you do not share
The experiences of Hari Kunzru or revel at the words of Zadie Smith
What to do? Change of pace and direction!
Moroccans with spite,
Africans as fierce beggars,
Maghreb feels hostile,
I need to catch my breath, even though travels of mine have not been long…
