At the intersection of Amber Junction
a vessel of vestal piss
for they know their gods’ inner wish
to have pus poulticed…
Not me; it is the land they defile
pour salt on every inch
making my wounds shriek with fury
still I use some for soup…
For, arms open, they enfold hate by fiat
anoint death-will on others:
If we cannot love, they must not love too
if we can’t do, they won’t do…
tell, what fragrances persistAskaris, noses plastered to judas holes,
after they wash with perfumed soaps
tell so we can string gays up
sever Sango’s braids, skewer his skirts, maim his mounts…
On a day like this vultures glide sublime
flesh fights flesh, bone bone
& unity between Genesis and protoplasm
they sacrifice to carrion eaters
this one-night stand binding them forever
in terror of love…
____________
Benson writes from Ibadan.
Photo Credits: TheAntiLiberalZone
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