The women here are
unbelievably vibrant and profusely silent.
They tell tales of a unique moral geography;
where gods and ghosts
birds and animals
death and love
live together in a strange amity.
They trample on notions of
‘dignified suffering’ and ‘respectability.’
Their muses are queens who lust after their gods
(first a Lover then a god)
Their anecdotes are dotted with
characters who are by now
permanent citizens of my imagination;
the spineless father, the clueless boyfriend, (the secret girlfriend)
and the overbearing mother.
They stress and fret and giggle until
they create their elliptical language
for defining meaning without confining it,
for expressing what is possible before realising it.
They speak in tongues thick
with their language
and cut with the questions.