Ernest O. Ògunyemi
Lonely Night the Poet Sells Himself as Lover to Dream
All the lights call it a day. All the marigolds go to sleep. The finches manufacture music from the latex of their throats. Let troughed tangled briars beg the earth for a moment. Let winter sit still & patient. There is no remedy to song severed in the neck. There is no remedial way to […]
hay
yes to the light turning, delicate summer— language of wonder, bone of miracle; I believe in love I believe in longing— somewhere a boy bangs his fist against a wall—begging magic to open up; what does it mean to be lost in the light of another—to let the rain touch the stamen & stem—what does […]