Poetry
Issue Seven – Abigail George
As I pluck the child from the air.Your face is wet, she says. She is white teeth,and fever, the tapestry that is made of cloud.She doesn’t understand the word blaxploitation.Her hair is egg shampoo. She doesn’t eat carrots.She prefers chicken instead. Her body is themountain light in summer. Her laughter is a bird,a horse, a…
Two Decay Poems – Abigail George
After birth, what did she feel?I think Diane Arbus just took pictures of herselfHer own alienationDid she ever experience isolation?Loneliness, yes, loneliness?Did it devour herlike it devours me?What did she hunger for?What did she want to leave behind?As a woman, was she ever really loved by a man?Was the strange hypnotic beauty that she foundin…
Olowo Ijo Bahun! – Adewale Sobowale
Save for the parked cars, it did not seem as if anything was happening there. I had to ask some guy who probably came to enjoy the fresh air outside if that was number sixty – five. Taking him for a security man, my voice was rather condescending, or so I thought. But on questioning…
Venerable’s Curse! – Adewale Sobowale
Oba f’okun weri o! Many who come to pastor.Should have been betterIn igbo EledumareWhere they’ll makeGood babalawos! Ko tun f’osa w’ese. But self survivalSelfish interestBrought themInto Christ’s vineyardThey came into theTabernacle! Eni Jesu we lo mo! A pig will always be oneIf you give it a bathIt will go back and take a swimIn the…
The Black Womban is God
Who is the Black Womban? ðŸ’ðŸ¾♀️ Watch more videos in my Black His-story 365 vlog series: 👣✨️https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLoRUYAFuuhdRuma48WK9hIQDw_UlwAqFj&si=cPzbSbT6dJyMPCxl Feel free to share! 🤳ðŸ¾
Don’t leave the sermon in the parking lot by Abigail George
In the mental hospital, we were given hard-boiled eggs without salt. I came to see my time in isolation, and the forgoing of salt, as a form of slow torture. For over a month, I did not see anyone except the attendants when food was handed to me. When I bathed in the basin, I…