MADE IN HONDURAS Poem by antoine de kom

with the aid of vicks and vim we declared ourselves a panorama, we became arab a sea of light somewhere in the desert that turned out to be different and more fully explained tulane and a view of the mississipi. We wore t-shirts made in honduras. there we recognised a city which kept our light-yellow presence hidden from its inhabitants. only our perfume recalled strolling through streets that turned out to be rules and in a district of pages the books we could easily cut open.