My eyes at war against cumulus
As the ink dries off, do lines
Ajar, the bloodbath gate of Hades
Pen now flowing moist mucus.

Come crepuscule, Umuofia was
drowned in lament
Even the anthills of the savannah went
into hiding
For a pen’s breathe worth more
than hundred cents
And just before dawn, emerged
spectral striding.
There, the joys of motherhood laid
to rest
Along with the concubines, twirling
like phantasmagoria
Who is the next ink to dry off in
its nest?
Protruded in the venter, is a
flare agoraphobia.
The pen’s penchant, its survival
shall defend
Behind a rusty, blotted sheet
Are engraved lines not to be effete?
Pugilism takes over! That pages
might eternally distend.
written by Balogun Yusuf

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