November 2007 l POETRY
Ejovwoke Ophori
A Comrade Addresses Marechra
Although it is your heterodoxies I mourn,
Their obscuring Africana in nakedness,
Don’t give me Modernism as allusion
Alone for such versifying,
Breathing (if I am to be as embroidered as your life
Which made of a ghetto, solacement,
Which made of solacement, a ghetto.)
Reposed on Harare’s Cecil Square,
You dreamed of all scholarships couldn’t suffocate
(The House of Hunger you’d awaken to,)
Your father was yet gore pinioned on a siding,
The Beats were yet dinning as though they could spare
An ode to the Second Chimurenga,
But incestuous violence seceded
From your love poems for Bettina.
Perhaps, she would be blissful
That the English no longer knocked out your teeth,
And impel you to compare your heart with Uranology.
Ejovwoke Ophori
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