There is no solution to this Problem of the other mind Harboured in my bedmate’s body: After 35 years of marriage Or communication inside out Are
Is neither dull-yellow Nor dull-grey; rather Every grain has The bright colour of a Rare gem, which You can see only With an amplified vision
More advanced in evolution Than their human masters are chickens As they outnumber the stars in the whole Universe, and occupy every corner of
The morning After his inauguration His Excellency could not Wake up from sleep He was later pronounced “dead” ‘But he
Little boy selling ice cream do you see them? Those who zoom past in tinted convoys… Do you look at them then smile, waving your shriveled
I Son, even Rome fell by the conspiracy of compatriots II Bridle your tongue, son for your cheeks have ears III Even the sun sets at noon son, be
Olukayode asks how the world sinks into the sea When he sees the sun drawn like a magnet into the waters’ bowel Beyond the farthest holds of our
I come home holding her hand and you do not cast us out. There is no sizzle of fire, no tyres, no rocks, no planks. You do not cross
One day while you were tilling the ground, you found your mother’s voice buried in your backyard, in a glass decanter inside an earthen pot that
I bet your ghosts were not stunned into surprise when bulging and lifeless, your bodies emerged from the sea to mourning: ‘who asked them to