Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 7, 2017

expendables~by Ayoola Goodness Olanrewaju




does it matter?
what we right. or write. the

thousand times we break into oceans
of light for rivulets of darkness. how much we beat our skin
into wool to mend the world.

morning still falls on us like monsters. not healing.
not songs we can tie to bruised tongues. they say there is
another sky under this sky.

when it falls. no one leaves. no one lives.

dear child, there is no fear in
my eyes. but there is fear. these strange times strangle

calling for our heads.

and the mighty pen is in fright.

we sit at light. but it is all dark. if the light stays
for days and we have not rejoiced for change. do
not blame us. we fear.

we fear the punishment of darkness after.

does it matter?
if laughter is sold free. our lips would still slave
paleness. yesterday lingers in us. like ticks. sucking us
into shadows.

tell the sun to save his heat. hot. the cold will still
stay with us. we will still look at the devil. and
say saviour save our souls.

we give our shoes to bare-footed men. and now
they sow cactus on our circus. they say go.

and guns.

we run.


Ayoola Goodness ©2017


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