The Travel

           after Koffi Awoonor’s “The Cathedral”

the song no longer soars through the 
      rope. it crawls up into a belly & topples
back down in a fine-grained mizzle. 
      only the thick fluff from the top goes into
the soil; the bearded roots still pull 
    through the green. very funny to admit, 
but all life still clings to a song. & one 
      appeared simultaneously, with the sound
of a crackling bolt struck. guzzling the
     cumulus of a miniature cloud. like the color
of something torn open. like a prayer
     cleaved in the knot of rosaries & petaled hue.
it walked straight into the room, beneath
     the heel of a sturdy black shoe crushing a
roach—munching the brown music of
     the ochre-draped air. the hand of threnody
wields the taut rope of bluish shadows, &
     what remains of bombed cathedrals are
opened like fresh carcasses under the sun—

PROSPER C. ÌFÉÁNYÍ

Prosper C. Ìféányí writes from Nigeria. His works have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Magma Poetry, Black Warrior Review, New Delta Review, Salt Hill, Variant Literature, and New Note Poetry Anthology. His debut micro-chapbook, Sermon, was published by Ghost City Press in July 2023.