DEPARTURE

HUSSAIN AHMED

 
 

Gbangba ni asa ta fun omo akin
I want to leave home to a better place
not far from home, I want a new room
close to the hospital where I was born
with the umbilical around my neck
I lost my first teeth to my mother’s bed post
every chick looks edible beside the chimney
and soon she will learn to fear the crows that rains
early in the morning, before she learns to tell apart
the honk of hearses and ambulances
the girl lived two hours longer after she was hit
by lightning, her eyes were filled with smoke
I was safe from the hawk but I was left to
bear the weight of Jupiter on my shoulders
she died on the floor of the crowded hospital
I want the doctors to do what I have heard they do
to slow down the heaving of a shrinking planet
she does look me in the eyes before she shut and
stops nodding her head. She saw her first blood
on the day she died, I lost a rib and did not feel empty
I mourn again and again, anytime I see my blood
I see her bouncing off the car, I see her walking backward
I stood there, until her ears are flooded with red.

 

 
 

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