Their bodies float on the surface of deep waters
And at night we hear them call
They read to us manifestos
Of how nice it is in the water
Many of us go in
To become oracles of their enchantment
Carrying on our heads their barely breathing bodies
While we beg for leftovers of air
Passed down from their rotting carcasses
The gods have drowned
And so has our will to live
Chained to the destinies of those who can’t help us
Winniefred F. Gbemuotor
Living on borrowed megabytes of happiness
Addicted to showing the world how happy we are
Making our inner child agonise and wither
Begging for attention
While we enjoy luxury and boast
That we are moving forward in life
Farther than other people
Until we get stuck
And the high can’t get us high anymore
And we fall deeper and more painfully each time
We’ve become heavy
With matted loads of smelly sores
We need to revisit and heal
We break down
And everyone gapes in shock
As if we are all not happy sad people
Winniefred F Gbemuotor
In the past world
They used to open the door to their cab
A kiss on their dorsal
A bow welcomed with kind courtesy
Even kisses were reserved for the third date
In exchange, they were refused the ballot
Sent off to bed for a beauty sleep
Sold off by invisible damsels
Who had been long replaced by new juice
They were kept from school and locked in scullery
This day they say they are equal
That they are on the same team
That modern people gallantly accept the lack of self control
Of equals who prefer to be equal at the top
That you should be content to be the home
And not the vacation house
They call each other
On beds of butt-crackin farts
To share a love language
They themselves struggle to understand
Of witless damsels who’s only aim is to claw their way into generational wealth
Like ants who walk on colleagues’ dead bodies as far as sugar is in sight.
_ Winniefred F Gbemuotor
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