Written by Psalmuel Benjamin
The neck of manliness is bleeding out his ligature
Like a ram, in obedience to the course of a knife.
Today, tomorrow, home at hand. Home, where
I will tell a tale of my excursion. Nothing much.
Only that I circled/ cycled a globe where man
Is a candle – hawking his fire like a magician
& disintegrating & washing down to his sole like a
firewood. Kánípé the day that will break me with
himself will take a morsel of patience & take a nap.
Let my wet eyes heal. Kánípé the jumbled me will
swirl a luck and make a prime palindrome of a precious
Pentateuch. Night! Don’t fall yet! Boy in white, pump
no blood! Dig me not/ I hate needles// bitter leaf/ Kolanut/
Mango leaf/ let fire lick kettle’s bum/ & kettle smoke//
Hot bitter smoke drives demons/ let me gulp
An excavator/ my demons are mansion owners//
Perhaps, the temperature of this steam will
Iron this rag I wear on my weak bones. Perhaps.
Night! Don’t fall yet! Boy in white, pump no blood!
Just spray me prayer that I make Phoenix – revival.
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Weldone, Samuel.