“Maputo”

You gave me a name, my reluctant Portuguese father
You painted my complexion in that sun kissed brown, my reluctant Portuguese father
You mapped my destiny, my reluctant Portuguese father

Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques

And in return, my reluctant Portuguese father
I chose millstones and broken teeth over you
I chose dirty orphanages and a dismembered youth over you
I chose the sweltering heat of isolation over you

Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques

Because, my reluctant Portuguese father
Your odium
Your arrogance
Your gall
Left me with the cauterizing decision between abuse or nothing at all

Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques

So as it goes, my reluctant Portuguese father
I take the salt that's in the air into my lungs and remember:
I tore myself open on these ancient beaches
I painted the concrete with steel and blood
I watched night after night sink into nightmares of despondency
This leviathan that became reality – my reality – is all your fault

Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques, Lourenço Marques

I hate you, my reluctant Portuguese father
This collage, this colloquium:
Tangled bodies and fading colonial alcazars
Faceless ghosts that dragged themselves through these streets
Is the symphony that drives my hate for you
My beaches are empty, my city is choking, my bloodline scarred
I don’t want to say your name anymore