Strange Child

inside the banana suckers is our temple at dawn we dance round the tombs in the dusk, we crow as cockerels then we creep into the creeks with the crickets a confluence of the strange in holy matrimony with the strange waiting for the next residence in her residence i sleep tonight in the pain of her delivery , i emerge defying the predictions of the bush doctor by noon i shall be gone with scars on my skin lacerations on my index thumb my face smeared with hot iron my toes crush with anger they wept, i laughed i died, i died, i died, i shall return the fourth time awoh kingsley awoh