Not in deities
of my Ojoto koradji
but in sieges
of my burrowed civility
the snake
a metaphor
wriggles in an eastern dance
my ancestry
my code
lineal umbilical cord

Not in constant rosary
of our daily hustles
but in patterned livelihoods
of our distorted history
potent in songs of sorrow
of my country's apparel
that the eke ogba
in slippery steps
ballet in adagio
resides in thievery
one beckons on others

Not in crotchet notes
of stolen cries
but in weakling of errors
character of comedy
comedy of values
that the bullet
permeates every membrane
spiraling in all directions
drugged drudgery in doggedness

Not in stolen kisses
of lovers in Cupid embrace
not in dotted lines
of romantic lexicons
porous as the heart may be
guilty as may be charged
by Pontius Pilate
not there

Not in majestic palace
pandemic residented
regimented in daily struggles
but in our responses to it
in our attitude confronting it
stubborn refinery
in the going and coming
this too shall pass

We are a nation of pythons
dancing in all directions
backing bags of potent poison
where we pass become impassable
what we touch untouchable
each generation a steep descent
none aiming for the skies
bullet and bullets
in volley of shots
hearts on the darts
aim once down all
begin a new