OMEN

shadows on the floor draw a grave on my pate and
Telegraph to me,
rhythmic tapping on the table with my ear to it.
Telegraph to me
old mornings when I could forget caution and quiet
of calm that nothing matters, Life sates
a constant reassurance but I suffer, i suffer standing up,
bones in my leg telegraph to me, eat less sleep more,
sleep more nothing matters,
but I gobble up and think and l save and I slave smiling sweet
winds from far telegraph to me, rat run atop my leg
telegraph to me
Sweaty afternoon dreams telegraph to me, cloth on the line swing
telegraph to me, soap in the bathroom fall from my hands
telegraph to me, the unexplained scratch sore on my back telegraph to me,
keys to my door, fall and telegraph to me
red eyes foggy brain, rumpled clothes, I feel spoken to mishandled beaten
but do I learn nothing,



lizard eating cockroaches, nodding telegraph to me,
Pigeons on my way telegraph to me
what the day will be like, whose head will be on the spike
music in my ears telegraph to me even if the voices are drained
in the noise of my own thoughts
Telegraph to me
with a clog on my feet, miss-worn clothes and torn socks and laces
Bide me time, time I will wish I had to search in futility,
Tired legs, heavy heart, unexplained batting of my left eye
telegraph to me,
Things I own, telegraph to me. Go missing when I step out

when I look for Thee, ask me

Will my little paper dream come true, will I be fulfilled?
will i eventually rumple this bed I make, or will I be killed?





by 

Victor Samuel

Dedicated to Those who die of Stray Bullets, and inexplicable killings in Nigeria