Two Poems by Nnadi Samuel
Before we gave it some English
Things of cul-de-sac come in a round phase:
black orb, wearing a Nike stain,
waiting for some English—to spin
the glyphs: a keeled font, a schwa
rebent in a sound.
A coyote howls to these letters
till we give it some English
guttering home a sibilant
saying, we can now storm the street,
without sustaining our gifts.
Forest Maths
Dawn in graphics:
a girl refusing to repeat her skin.
raw light greens me
this much piety to sun
I attend the wild reserve
stuck to a cylinder & inhaling
I have seen absence become a metaphor
while time sorts the almighty
And I'm elsewhere, happening