Sonnet III after Kazim Ali The family inside at the dinner table is no longer mine. It’s been three years since I opened that door & lost a tooth. Everyone ate silence; mum avoided looking at my lips – Our hands on the cold glass minutes before thunder quivered. I am in the news […]
Learning How To Die | by Akpa Arinzechukwu | African Poetry
We’ve learned how to die. Each. In a unique splendor. Like, my father who died walking with his head down and legs up. His face was blood stained and smiling. He must have thought himself funny. Boom. That was the sound of the American certified polished pistol he got from only God knows where. It […]