Ojaide's "Quatrain Suite" Continued from Previous Page
The eye of the earth beholds a vandalized fortune.
The ears of the earth numb from the deep silence.
The veins clogged by overabundance of oily grease.
The heart beats an irregular drum that fades away.
Why are survivors of the globalization assault only
vultures and cobras, insignia of commanders-in-chief?
The birds and beetles lost their refuge, as people
of the creeks lost their livelihood to developers.
For good luck I carry about memories of floodwater,
especially of the seven-day storm that sank sun and moon
in gurgling streams and creeks, the entire land a seascape;
and my bait-free new hooks caught catfish and mudfish.
In town there are new roads and signposts
as well as waves of rats and migrants--
democracy demolished monuments of
dictators for good, but we still suffer heat.