In a kolanut communion, let me in
take you at your word, Dibia Mbari.
Are you in the same chariot of Odinala
along the route of Chi?
The white ram of the sun, Ofufe,
implants redder on weals.
The Arusi of the sky, the husband of Ala,
rains thus rheum.
Nwannaa! Ndebunze our sightless elders
shrug to protect our manhood
from the iyi-uwa of the Trickster God.
Agwu Nsi must have foretold fell.
Where are your brothers, Dimkpa?
Who is Narcissus to you?
Oke Mmanwu! Anyanwu would not thus
or are you sightlessly, Agu Mmuo?
That is if Eri-Ikenga gave you an Ofo
that marks authority for smithing.
Who would let the Occident bear
that their Long Ju-ju, Ibini Ukpabi
could not turn our swords into ploughshares?
How be it, I know that Ares inspires you.
Aye! You must have yet, been caught
by Dionysus and about making away
How much would Sisyphus had paid?
Should one answer the call of Athena
and given to Hermes, take up her gauntlet?
I am afraid that you cannot seduce
her Bacchus-free seeming.
Who would fuel the fiery coals
heaped by Aristocles of Ariston,
and light up yet, the path of Momus?
Would Apollo thus blithe abide?
For whose ventilation, Odogwu,
does such fan cool?
It preys but on my breast; but now,
my throat does voice.
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