T He Plague

The lips are baked, cracked Disfigured The eyes gaunt and Hollow Face skeletal in the monsoon, Wrinkled- The plague has come. The Oracular Verb calling, Humans lurking phantoms, The moon asleep in the frost: The plague! The plague! The hunters are armed Toe to teeth Spears and matchets gleaming Out for the hunt. The plague. “ nuë ngông,” Bless us all, Fight the plague. Bodies fortified Palm wine drunk- Arrows dipped in poison: Hunters shrieking into the forest, Hunting their own aggrieved ancestors.