on January 7, 2023
i damage you─ beautifully. late evening nurse. i come with a bloodless adze, glucose meter & a satchel full of thermometers & ice packs. i put my fingers in your mouth & record your temperature. i detect everything; the hot breath of roof pressing heavily against your knee & quiet volcano in the compression of your things. my knuckles listen to the tussle of your thighs reddening like the neat of fresh meat. on its sticky surface, i discover everything. last night's unrest. of recalcitrant bodies. two legs hoisted in the air asking God if they can be like that & still make prayers clean without rinsing with bleach. wounds can be eaten fresh on a woman's body. do not think it; it is a paradox of an exotic poem. i break my father's teeth in your groin with my tongue. do not utter what body cannot hear in rain. do not curse me with rainbow, half-sketch hate on my father's glabella & extend the curve to my chin bone. it is just a matter of a tennis racket pronated from the back & the arm is filled with ire. i load an ace & suspend my head like bat. i hunt him away from your colony. breathe. breathe.
Gabriel Awuah Mainoo is a Ghanaian creative practitioner & author of 5 books of poetry. Winner of the 2021 Africa Haiku Prize, 2022 Singapore Poetry Prize, 2021 LFP/ RML/ Library of Africa and the African Diaspora chapbook winner & a recipient of the 2022 West Africa Writers Residency.Mainoo’s craft can be found or forthcoming in London Reader, Pairie Fire, SUSPECT, Wales Haiku Journal, EVENT, Africa Haiku Journal among others.