fleeting daze

Calligraphy of Grief

ABDUL AWAL

Like antlion,

I am calligraphed in reverse.

In a dream, a dung-beetle rolls its miseries,

 & mistakes my body for a wasteland.

In my father’s tongue, jó means dance, or burn,

But every dance step I take burns me to ashes.

I mistaste my mother’s prayers, & terror

Scythes my tongue as a specimen of grief.

Màmá says, “Oluwa jẹ́ ki n bẹ.” God let me live.

But I ring Olúwa jẹ́ ki n bẹ́ into God’s hearing,

Meaning, God, let me sh  a  tt  e  r,  let me 

Grow as f/r/a/g/m/e/n/t/s of primeval debris.

That is: grief gazes at me like a familiar abode, &

Extends its limbs into the rooms of my body;

That is: inside me, there is a forest of tremor, where

Every flower droops upon the memories of my childhood.