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
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