Am I African?

Am I African?

I learnt about obedience from Hansel & Gretel,

Because I followed them into the woods,

I know danger because I know Pinocchio,

And so I do what �real boys’ should.

I know pies are delicious and spiders are scary,

Tom Thumb and Miss Muffet,

Enid and Roald, my friendships are yours,

My adventures begin where your paper meets pen.

Literary beauty is limerick, a sonnet,

A stanza or a verse, what is it called in Zulu again?

I cannot remember, maybe I did not ever know.

I am Irish, poetry is war, war against war,

Rebellion against the order, yet I have not held a gun . . .

I am English, my sympathy is Oliver Twist,

My hero is William Tell,

Austen taught me manners,

Shakespeare - how to spell.

I am Spanish, I am German, I am even French too,

I ride shotgun with Quixote and while he steers, I read Mann and Camus,

But I doubt we will ride through the Dark Continent,

Because even they do not know a way through.

My wisdom is Greek,

God is Roman . . . Jesus, from the east?

And