May 23, 2017by Dami Ajayi

Tuesday Poem by Dami Ajayi

(After Chris Ajilo)

In the hotel room where fantasies decay
there is no putrefying stench

no dingy remains
everything is as intact as a crime scene
save the evidence.

we don’t hold requiems for dreams here
when they die
we incinerate them

day dreams have the worst fate
we impale them ourselves
banish them into cisterns

their fates plugged in by sealants
liquid waste

in the land out of the range of mother’s eyes,
crying is an expansive futility
past warnings skirt by in quick quick trails
you should have known
for mother warned you about Lagos.