Smoke Invasion
The balcony puffers with their squat bellies of gasoline out-number all our pores. Your skin and mine. Power generators plug their pipes into our narrow alley-ways, lined with hair. Exhale, inhale. Carbon-monoxide smoke lays eggs in infant lungs. Our faces, palms ripen into crimson fruits then, become black, the colour that enriches the fading into oblivion. The National Electricity Company crows a darkness, mid-way between Lagos and Abuja like an impotent rooster . Enter the balcony puffers invading lungs with locusts of smoke. For breakfast, we eat bread baptized with spongy spores of...
Read More