A Voice of Homelands and Diasporas

Beginning of article

   There is
   a country in the world
                               situated
   right in the sun's path.
   A native of the night.
                               Situated
   in an improbable archipelago
   of sugar and alcohol.
                               Simply
   light,
                    like a bat's wing
   leaning on the breeze.
                               Simply
   bright,
         like the trace of a kiss on an elderly
   maiden,
           or daylight on the roof tiles.
                                          Simply
   fruitful. Fluvial. And material. And yet
   simply torrid, abused and kicked
   like a young girl's hips.
   Simply sad and …