Hero Dust
Uncle bore the universe in his hands turned it on its head to ward off bullies spun it to produce tales of how the world was this wide open field of adventure with me at the centre of it I honed my laughter on his shoulders learnt to peel back the mysteries of the world by following the dot at the end of a question mark Uncle knew everything about everything I grew up on his legend how he raised an army of sibling juggling two continents and one books to learn about anything from ‘dialectic materialism’ to the history of the assembling line, and 20 hours between riding a Danfo bus and keeping the marauding poor from the gates of the rich in the dead of the night they say the pressure never cracked his smile I believe them because I drank from this well of kindness never knew my parents rode the years on the back of this capeless superhero Our worlds would spin out of control without heroes champions who hold us up against the weight of humanity dragging us down the abyss shame us by the wounds of their sacrifice tame our demons with the soft light of their presence. but heroes wear dust too and puzzle us when they bump against a rock of desire and we see the earth come off When i was nineteen Aunty Edna packed her things and left the kids in tow I was old enough to piece together the fragments of words broken behind closed doors and to decrypt the gossip of the wind I hear she was just twenty-three a student from the University Of Lagos pretty little thing now off on another conquest a hero’s dust between her legs
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The Apologist
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