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 […]



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 […]