Jos

we keep learning to sorrow again and again. Next thing is that we forget, only to be incited by another, and another…

JOS

I also search for answers in
the book of history:

Why must they kill to fill
the earth with smoked bodies
of those who die before their times?

I also search for answers in the
blistered eyes of children
with necks chained by those
who pray they die, or they fall
like men ambushed before they
raise the flag of freedom- if there is…

II

I also dream like you in a fallen
house under a broken roof
with men whose names are
traces of lost races

I also dream like you in this
abbatoir where they roast skulls
to feed their greedy bellies

I also dream…

III

when the walls break like plates
in this city

they rush to call the dibia
whose wife moans like a
dying patient

when the walls break like bottles
on the heads of people
whose homes reek of fresh memories
of burnt friends, coursemates, familiar/
unfamiliar faces holding lanterns to
the tombs of departed dreams

we rush to call the dibia
whose name is a ghoul
that haunts us…

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