In Lagos Hours Poem by Oludipe Samuel

Grey scalpel, grey slaughterers
Comb sideway of melding blood and brine, seriatim,
Stroke gold-yellow kerosene swells possessive of streets.
Burdened omnibus stabs the broken motorway,
Retracts to stoop to grey hawker-
His coy belly is distended from hunger

The hovering dust pleats the road
Tar holds sway smoky rust like confounded wraiths
Possessive of the runway;
Rebukes from spice-caked stall-women stalk
Annoyed warden as ghostly whispers ashore yet
Enchants pot-bellied man shaving beard...
Blast, fire, ruckus, receded prayers on rolling tyre

Limp night.
Hollow dawn
Nets resonances of thousand penchants.
Light on trailer crevices
Echoes back upon rushing tandems.
Beneath a sky darkly blunt
She heads home beating the throng's plaint
Above haunted night-watchers,
Trampling adire women, soul-sour policemen
Of leaking uniforms.