Suferia

I started coffee as Philip stirred breakfast to keep the eggs from burning on the bottom of the thin aluminum suferia (cooking put).

They kept watch, boiled chai in the suferia, and tried, constantly to make Simi open her mouth to drink, to swallow, to take the small sustenance that the sugar and tea and milk might give her.

I peered inside and saw a pile of belongings—should sacks, tattered clothing, a towel, a wooden box, a suferia (cooking pot), plastic mugs and plates, straw mats and hats—the worldly goods of the poor.

I am from Togo born after Communism / the sound of donuts frying in the morning / and oatmeal being stirred over the fire and under the stars / in the extra large suferia