Read Time:1 Minute, 10 Second
(after Nome Emeka Patrick)
and I am a renegade. It is dusk. The room is a hovel of lack and sour joy. My lover lulls me in the lighthouse of her smile. And I should make home here. Outside, Lagos lagoses – Allahu Akbar goes the mosque northward. On the news, truth is currency, the poor cannot buy and capitalism is noose around our neck. Those whose rewards are in heaven, let them keep waiting. Those who wear suffering as saintly robes, let them keep flaunting. Again, Borno is a canvas of fall- ing bodies - 1, 12, 123... the news man says, counting the way Mother says, Let us pray. After the break, his face is poker-calm as somalia girls are spoils on the altar of some vile hunger. Those who prefer their neighbour’s yam, let them steal machetes. Those who like meat, let them pluck out their own eyes. Another balloting, my people bath in the spittle of promises & the storm did not come to play. Those who can oar themselves home, let them sculpt a paddle. Those who can house the wreck, let them become headstones..
Wisdom Nemi Otikor is a poet and teacher who is always writing love poems. He is the Poetry Editor of Porter House Review. He is a bubble of laughter in a city of God. He is @Wisdomotikor on Instagram.
