A school of angels heralding the new creations,
singing hallelujah to the truthfulness of prophecies.
Earlier, I watched a boy roping his body
with a living snake. Another’s hand snaking
the fur of a lion, unharmed.
Imagine the unimaginable:
see a snake in your pocket.
In place of the sachet of water
you once hawked is a clan of scorpions.
Among what was written, nothing will sting
and flesh would be disgusting
to those who once eat them.
Imagine a world without meat _
say beef. pork. kpomo.
Before this poem become a man, I’ve spent
a whole day walking forestlands for something wild
to scare me. Yesterday, it was the sea I dived into.
If I had died, this poem wouldn’t be written.
This poem: a library of imaginations to be sent to God
to show him how much I want Eden again.