WORSHIP by tolu ogunlesi

WORSHIP

White shirts&shorts assemble in the shrine
Of time, furtively invoking the godofgrandprix

White drops of clarity seed
In the blueblack muddiness of dawn’s bowl

We are goosebumps, swaying
On Issele-Uku’s dew-darkened dust

We are toy soldiers sprawled
In the counsel of ease

We are ferris wheels of feet, powered
By instincts still intact in the slime

Of birth.  And we are voices unravelling
From mouths kissed by blindness.

appeared in Ann Arbor Review

(c) Tolu Ogunlesi

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