Along a Road in Africa

Along a road in Africa
There's grey blood
And a jeep, idle
Waiting for the driver
To get back inside

Wipe the sweat off your brow
You're thirsty now, aren't you?

Put the shovel down
And let whoever finds it
Find it

It's no longer your concern

The boy's sleeping in the backseat
Probably saying his prayers in his head
And by some miracle
He didn't wake up
Not even during the screaming
Not even during the silence after the screaming
Which, to you, seemed considerably louder

You gave him seeds to eat
And a pillow to put his head down on
Hoping he'd fall asleep
But not really expecting him to

You don't take him along on these drives
When you can help it
But today, today, today
You couldn't help it
Could you?

No way around it, really

He'll get a gift when he wakes up

Something nice
That can distract him
That he can take in the car
If you need to take him again
If things come up

The sweat smells worse than the blood does
And it gets on the steering wheel
On your way back into town

Lick the palm of your hand
Never minding the dirt
And push your hair back
Out of your eyes

Your lips taste bitter
From where the words came out
From the explanation
Of why this was happening

They always ask you that
They say--

'Why is this happening?'

And though you don't have to tell them
You do

Because it seems fair
Because it seems like they're asking for last rites
And who are you
To say they can't have them?

A simple explanation

You did something wrong

You screwed up

You said the wrong thing

Or you're just unpredictable
Which shouldn't be a good reason
To take someone along a road in Africa
But unfortunately, it is

You explain things to them as best you can
But they still scream and beat at you
And you always feel a little betrayed

As if there was some sort of agreement
That's been breached
Each time

When really
What agreement can you have
With a person you're about to leave mutilated
And torn apart
By the side of the road?

From the backseat
You hear rustling

Listen to the sound
Of your son
Waking up

Tell yourself that next time
You'll leave him home
Even without someone to watch him
Because it's better
Ultimately
Even if he's asleep

It's better if he's not around

But you feel like it's unsafe
Leaving him at home
By himself

You tell yourself
This isn't the jungle
This isn't the deep, dark forest
With lions waiting
To jump through windows
And get to the flesh
Of sweet young boys

It's Africa, but it's not Africa
It's a place with a different sort of danger
Than what people see
In books and movies

Mr. Livingston, Tarzan, etc etc

But still you hate leaving him at home
Even knowing
That as you drive away
The danger
For the most part
Goes with you