sad bald man

Relic of Grief

by Oluwadare Popoola

a coloured thing,

black coloured as a friday wake-keep,

arch heir of death,

skin lurking as a memory site for the revolt of a republican,

dulling a memory refilled with what he could have been,

becoming a clam to escape its own silence,

where it is exactly hidden

between the stop of mother

before she picks up the next prayer for the government.

but silence is innuendo alright

and she still gives consent[

with her mouth twiddling into a rosary bead,

a relic of grief

searching for the creator’s numen

and then the panther sleeps on an ocean again

in desolation.

Source: From the Isolation Issue (September 2020)


OLÚWÁDÁRE PÓPÓỌLA is a poet or so he thinks, a student of Microbiology and a Sportswriter for a media company. He writes from a city by the rocks and longs to see the world without discrimination of any form. He is learning how images are made from words and his poems are up/forthcoming on Mineral Lit. Magazine, Headline Poetry & Press, Feral: A Journal of Poetry & Art and ang(st)zine.



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