Everything comes alive. Miracle of moss
& mangoes. Where there was nothing, a mirror
blooms. I am so high I can bite God
on his face. It is Rainbow Season. Tell
the light to take the stage. Tell the deers
to make a prey of the music. I believe
in nothing. I believe in you, confluence
of stars, congregation of glimmering
things. I keep running because Death
wants to use my hand. What do I say
to the wistful flamingos of Yesterday, playing
hoo-ha in my backyard. What do I say, mother,
to the Grief, to the salt rain that pours
in the pouch of my days. What do I say.
Today I saw the end in human frames
& it rattled me up, & I rattled them up.
I just want to get home, make merry
while bipolar lets me, or make a fairy
tale of bitter-throated sparrows. I just
want to not be this boy who caters to this body
who caters to that body. Maybe tomorrow
the miracle will not moss or mango. & where harmattan
collects its cowries, there’ll be an empty snail
Ernest O. Ògúnyẹmí is a writer, literary journalist, and editor from Nigeria. His work has appeared/ is forthcoming in AGNI, Bodega, Southern Humanities Review, Bath Magg, Cincinnati Review, Rust+Moth, Joyland, The Dark, 34 Orchards, Agbowó, the minnesota review, the Kenyon Review, Mooncalves: An Anthology of Weird Fiction, and elsewhere. He is currently pursuing a BA in History and International Studies at Lagos State University.