Coming And Going... Poem by Eche Ononukwe

Deep down in the testes;

testes wrapp’d in a thick scrotus,

micro-organisms always spring up,

travelling thro’ the Red Sea of dusts,

with liquid-ornament’d fluids;

down again straight to that strong iron rod,

standing like Moses’ rod



Zoom! It kicks that rubber-band pot-hole

in a long period of down and up,

trying to form frisky foetus

which looks like an unborn reptile.



Now he screams for help

Aft’r nine days in a hermit.

Weaning, he passes thro’:

four legs, he crawls in;

in two, he walks to make a living;

to three, he lat’r journeys back;

weak, he dies and returns to the dust

where his relations – wombs! – feed on ‘im,

now longing to be born again.