Non-Western

Conveniently
someone has left here
three tiny planets,
bare and empty,

and so I shall begin with
a few small buildings for
the tiny, unseen people who
         (apparently)
live there.

But as the poetry of Africa
and the personification of war
pour forth
from the pretty mouth of the young professor -
and never from the flat faces of her students
         (though she tries)

this tiny city will grow
for I am generous to a fault
(and, after all, I can only make such a small, simple place better)
until the once-simple people
and their once-simple world with
their small, few buildings

becomes a sprawling, cramped, crowded
Metropolis:
so large and overdone that the sun and moon never set there,

because industry and modernity
came even to native Africa - her people fell victim to the generous world -

and I am not paying attention.