Sunday, 28 October 2012

My Father's Thongs

One frozen silent windy day without sun,
I think I heard him once in his sitting-room:

Sulyman Ifawuyi - descendant of Elerin Mosa,
the manipulator of ladogba leaf who tripped
beyond Erin-Ile before the advent of the albinos,
turned Ifa to Ola and his opele to turban and rosary;
then incantatated in foreign tongue from the desert.
He warned never to place one calabash in another,
never to shun His foreign Deity or go back his ancestor's.
He bought for me the thongs of the desertman and the albino's,
even though the albino forced me to change my desert name,
and dance to the beats and lyrics of his deity called the Christ.
And I did. I did because my legs and palms would have halted
and my palate and lips would have been only sticked to the date
brought by the desertman. "An eater of honey in the rock
looks not at the edge of his axe." said son of Edumosa,
"And if your palm hasn't touched the sword handle,
ask not for the cause of your father's catastrophic death..."

These witty drops drench my ears as the moonlight crouches
in her hut...He too, I see, in his father's thongs calling his kin...

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