By Chris Anyokwu
Yesterday was a surfeit of conceited farts
Paradise on bubble,arpeggios of satieties thrummed the air titillations of coital palate,loud cannons of cranial feats.
The string-pullers? Lords of instant extinction and supersonic surfers of the superhighway…
Some blared deific trumpet of scions of Cupid, others
their Terminator physique,many more gods’ bits of wood
Revelled in the tintinnabulation of gold coins
with its power spin-offs…
Yes, Gods roamed the earth
and their worshippers burned suppliant tapers
to gain themselves Nirvana
Today’s all quiet
a planetary sepulchre encroaches
as the dying bury their dead
you can hear a pin drop
from Cancer to Capricorn
as elephants and ants duck
under common eaves
to wait out a spring nightmare
red in tooth and claw
sickle in hand, ripping reaping
a dark heavy harvest
Gods’ magic wands wilt in sulphuric tongues of fire
teaching homilies of humility
a salve which calcified at dawn
now, a race of blind beggars trudges on,a long long day into night.
Chris Anyokwu is an Associate Professor, Dept. of English, University of Lagos (UNILAG), Nigeria
