bodies faxed into the earth
hold the ropes tied
to their empty bones. they pull the tails
of the constricted conscience
unwilling to rest with the new black worms.

 imagine dry leaves rustling
violently in wet songs, they would
get blown here, not there, by the wounded wind.

 conflicting elegies rise slowly
like a smoke with a broken wing,
everything that dare not move
inside my body finds a new sky
to cling unto; finds a new death to seduce

 as more & more children
of the Sea embrace a voyage
into the unknown planets in my head.

 my body wearing a jacket of hiccups
holds the ropes of my mind,
connect it to the black earth;
connect it to the white heaven;
connect it to those two blazing lies

gnawing at my decaying body & those of others.



Bola Opaleke is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in a few journals like Frontier Poetry, Rising Phoenix Review, Writers Resist, Rattle, Cleaver, One, The Nottingham Review, The Puritan, The Literary Review of Canada, Sierra Nevada Review, Dissident Voice, Poetry Quarterly, The Indianapolis Review, Canadian Literature, Empty Mirror, Poetry Pacific, Drunk Monkeys, Temz Review, St. Peters College (University of Saskatchewan) Anthology (Society 2013 Vol. 10), Pastiche Magazine, and others. He holds a degree in City Planning and lives in Winnipeg MB.  www.bolaopaleke.com