Possession

The halls of imperialist history are lined
With its prized possessions;

A naked display of Saartjie Baartman,
A halo of Kurtz's shrunken heads,
The chains and platforms of the slave market
Alongside a line of gravestones.
(What power was gained from these violent articulations of greed?)

Now, there are only ashes and stone to hold onto.
Hollow, chalk outlines

And those of us left alive, with hints of humanity
Lay beside our lost brothers and sisters
Crying tears that mock the absurdity of possession.