Night in Lagos. by Ojo Taiye, but first... A Sad Sun.

Silhouette is the Genesis of a song
in aboriginal linguistic
as God’s eye became a stoke furnace
and our flicker of stronghold
along tobacco road
became a body of water
through the pipe of a Kabul
how do five digit of loins breath?
do we dance when the moon is dead?
do we dance when happiness
is a city in folklore?
we didn’t dance again as spawns wont
on homeward sires

Night in Lagos.
The ebon of the night
The moon is a woman
Pisces savory smells
Croaky angels—
wooing heat dames
Specters awake to the ritual of
broken rib-cage dancing salutes to
green bottles
cracking fires in flesh pot
Rock and spliffs
charmed hearts

Ojo Taiye is a Nigerian poet. He is a twenty-three year-old microbiology graduate from Tansian University. He loves books and Anime, in that order. Taiye has some of his muddled thoughts published and forthcoming in Kalahari Review, Tuck Magazine, Lunaris Review, Elsewhere, and others.