A 15-year abacus, a rosary of flint faces,
and an inverted road.
St. Jonah, personal patron, pray for me.
You brother of cowards and fugitives,
welldigger who struck a bedrock
of scorpions every time.
I too have encountered
a rising tide of what could be water,
if it wasn’t paralyzing me from the feet up. Continue reading “1. Via Negativa, and 2. The Creation Of Man – Tolu Oloruntoba”