YET, HE DREAMS

** YET, HE DREAMS ***

The sun awakes

And yawns

With warm breath

That kills the sleep

In his eyes

He breasts the tape

Of a the foggy dawn

And thoughts climb out

Of the burrows in his mind.

They twist and turn

And hold hands as one.

Then they...

Shoot forth from his bosom

Into the mirror

Of tomorrow.

His luxuriantly maned Belle,

smiles through a rising Eden

Of steel and glass...and gold.

His tongue mired

In a banquet of orchards.

And parched thirst quenched

In a deluge of red milk

From the teats of vineyards

Glossy well fed stallions

With rubber hooves

And succulent humps

Jealously haggle

To bear aloft

The weight of his buttocks

Tomorrow's king is scourged.

His back carry merciless welts

From the whip of sun rays.

He bends and toils,

Planting beads of sweat

Into the soil of tomorrow

As the sun drowns,

Swallowed

By the grey horizon,

He stands on knees

And falls on palms

Crawling like a lizard,

He makes his bed

Under the bridge

At Ojuelegba.

KUNLE OMOPE

Photo from vagabondish.com