For my little sis, Uche, on her birthday who probably won’t understand this
Let no man or god
dare me. For for you I live,
eat this foul air, breathe
your blisters, my sore
let me act the whore
take it in the butt
from this world of
fumey, wispy smoke and lying mirrors
leave it be . . .
please, leave it be, darling
for it’s for you, I’m living
stooped to pick my bleeding
head from beneath the guillotine.
Headless, head in hand, darling . . .
like a haunting spectre
I traipse rooms and rules, somber
hid my nitrogycerine, saltpetre*
act like I’m a respecter
of genial religio-political mind vandals
let it be . . .
just for you
let it be
*saltpetre- potaaium nitrate, material used in explosives
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