Seething fodder running in rasps-splash.
Cringing among the fodder is nature’s hack
So sterling in meretricious gold-wretchedness
Choosing among these worlds, the large mat for
Flaps and hoots carry in their messages such
Noise of inquest into the carnage and wails
From the bastinado practised among men of
Desolate villages scattered among themselves.
In haste you must come!
and sequester yourself.
I sense an apercu,
visceral and frail –
an aperient of the already bleeding bowels
of the earth.
Topic of this poem: culture
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Comments about this poem (Impediments by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu )
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