
3 Poems │ Martins Deep
the echo of a wound after interment father, the path to your graves t r e t c h e s like an elastic placenta affixed to my lacrimal sac.your…More
the echo of a wound after interment father, the path to your graves t r e t c h e s like an elastic placenta affixed to my lacrimal sac.your…More
There is a girlSatan’s Child is written on her forehead.Her mirror is broken.She runs to the Stillwater to behold her entirety,At another time, she comes to disrupt the water.I watched…More
I keep sneering at the words of these oloshis who give me solemn and sagacious looks born of their deep-seated belief that my lungs would soon turn black and my…More
Lolitas Store It’s usually argued:the Old World descends, say, from Jerusalem, from Athens;misogynist really, since the dawn of time,i.e. droit du seigneur, or burning of adulteresses.In Ancient Greece,the nobles had…More
My country is on the moveBut her legs are those of a dipsomaniac. The torchbearer forgets to take his promises alongSo he leaves my country atThe gate of Canaan &Moves…More
“But she’s not that kind of girl,” she screamed with her hands on her chest, her heart racing as a trickle of sweat ran down her neck.She was right. Chinyere…More
Let the sky fall on my head and be heavier than this thought.I am talking about a feeling in search of how a nation crieslike it is in search of…More
When I was five years old, my mother was critically ill. She was in and out of the hospital like a clumsy drug dealer going in and out of jail.…More
May We Find Light After the Dark the journey is not too far from our legs;because the dust is a milkwood crescentadjacent to a sturdy boulder. we seekthe path from…More
The Mother Whenever Ekwutosi carries her child to the market, she lifts her face up to the sky as if she is sniffing God as she walks. It is her…More