by Lukpata Lomba Joseph
A beast has twirled out of the murk,
farting smog into the naked sky.
The air is heavy with hearts
leaping off bodies as a bald owl
takes to flight across water bodies,
leaving dust on every street.
A man runs into the street to meet
a lover and returns with fire
in his throat. And somewhere in the news,
a colleen runs into the bush
to feed on dragon-flies because a lover
coughs too loud.
How else do we write of a time
when a priest whispers to a crucifix
and a man retires to a room to wear
the dress of a monk?
Somewhere, at the end of his voice, a beast
peeps to take down people’s address.
And beyond the yard, a family sits
to learn how to walk the streets with buckled
mouth and stitched lips!
Lukpata Lomba Joseph lives in Nigeria. His poems have appeared in Jacar Press’ One, Poetry North Ireland’s FourXFour Journal, Squawk Back Journal, and many others.