Beaton Galafa is a Malawian writer. He currently lives in Jinhua, China where he is studying for a Master’s in Comparative Education at Zhejiang Normal University. His work has appeared in literary magazines, journals, and books such as Betrayal, The Seasons, The Wagon Magazine, The Bombay Review, Bhashabandhan Literary Review, Kalahari Review, The Maynard, Atlas and Alice, South85 Journal, The Voices Project, Birds Piled Loosely and Nthanda Review.   


Caged in a Flat World


The world can never be round

We could not have found all the gourds and drunkards

Swerved off in times of earthquakes and tsunamis

Or whirled to its edges by hurricanes

They would be dangling on threads of spiders

Praying for the tenderness in a mother’s hand

To lift them up from jaws and claws of darkness.


We wouldn’t have grown shells on our skin

After the blood baths from wolves,

We would just float in space

Our lives not tilting at the axis along with earth’s.

Or, our murderers would have washed down

To rot in deep sea caves at the world’s laterals.

Yet here we are, caged in this brutish world

Its ends so intent on getting us locked on its islands

Of war, murder and treachery.

With lies of horizons that stretch to as far as they can

And the end meeting the beginning. Where earth

Stands still.






is a dark cave in a river

that swallows scubas

with a thousand divers staring

at the bright shadows of the sun and its rays

hanging freely from splendour.






in love

there is just me.

and the many kisses I throw at the moon

when it flees the night in space

its lips iced with frost.