INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
We're trying very hard to believe death
doesn't exist. She's our one and only
unanswered question -- if you ignore
WMDs, Love and UFOs. And girls.
For now we'll stand, watching
the lists grow longer, clones
of Simic's woman with the trembling
finger. Our souls are cold and the lists long.
We ride to oblivion on everyday buses,
or slip through the neighbourhood cafe, past smoke
that is not from the kitchen, to the picnics
set on the paper gardens of tomorrow's news.
Memories all come
And go like jilted lovers.
Replacements report for duty
Because they say my mind is filled
With negatives in a world
Of positive thinking.
Freeze your masks for free
Gaze later, and guess
What the pockets of that lost look hold,
Or cringe at how overweight you looked
This time last year.
Listen to me speaking
Let their be light
Where time sweeps memories
With darkened brooms.
Tolu Ogunlesi, Lagos, Nigeria
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