Before Twenty Fifty

By

___________________________I fetus tomorrow instead,
______________________________________fallowing.

___________________________I be in a brown study room,
___________________________saw-dusting a lumber siesta
___________________________for my temple’s stretch mark
___________________________couldn’t sit quietly,
___________________________listening to the gossips
___________________________of the grey-haired moonlight.
___________________________Unsavvy
___________________________of unborrowed tomorrows,
___________________________but if you ask me
___________________________it comes as no surprise
___________________________fading into the sky after
___________________________I tweet my pluckable crows,
___________________________to a dust bowl— all my life.
___________________________I unwind
___________________________a migratory bird,
___________________________an orphaned accordion,
___________________________of which I hope could make up
___________________________for my lack of manpower.
___________________________Before twenty fifty,
___________________________if I don’t suffocate in the dead of night
___________________________from gunpowder’s grip,
___________________________I’ll simply turn my wounded lung
___________________________into a vulture museum piece.

 


Ayomide Bayowa