The indic shores of Africa
Is where I became aware of myself
Or even sometime before, perhaps
Further upstream the Zambezi river
Where I loved to swim with the locals
Leaving my mother petrified in fear
The crocodiles would take me
I remember saluting an army captain
Transfered there to fight the insurgents
Who, puzzled by the young boy in pajamas
By the road side at dawn, stopped his Berliet truck
To ask my name: — Captain Michel Strogoff!
I replied pertly, having never read Jules Verne yet…
