Nigeria, Jan. 10 -- I am sitting here,

wondering if the world

has finally decided

to give up its membership

to the 20th century,



the way a man

might decide

to stop paying

for a gym

he never visits.



It's a bit like

watching a rodent

who has managed

to fall

into a drum

of 192-proof

Polish vodka-



the kind of spirit

that doesn't just

sting the throat,

but clarifies the soul

in a rather unfortunate

direction.



He climbs out,

this tiny,

drunken mouse,



not looking

for a nap

or a bit of cheese,



but suddenly convinced

that the entire

infrastructure

is his personal enemy.



You see him

in the dark,



eyes bright

with a chemical certainty,



using those

precision teeth

to snip through

the v...