SLEEP OF INNOCENCE
ODIA OFEIMUN
Another hawk tears through the womb
of the night—
gruesome go-crash
of a million souls
in the speech of automation,
the thrust of a monster-thought
jolting your sleep;
Comes oppressive silence,
convulsing the selves in wild sensations
of prostrate-innocence, guilt.
Mooning love, do not wake
in this filthied hour of soot;
don’t stir to share in the burdening swoop
of insomnia raping my being;
—let me alone in my choking helpless rage
WEep MY LAND.
Editor’s note: First published in Nigeria Magazine, Sunday, March 1, 1970. Source: Archiving.