(for sokoto state, Nigeria)
The day breaks into hotness
The chest of the road embraces its heat
The rivers receive our bodies before
evening invite darkness to dinner
and when we retire to bed in the
bosom of our blankets, our rooms
become a wilderness bereft of breeze.
Before the clouds soak the city
in water, the sand rises in protest;
bending the trees, slapping
the leaves, yanking off branches,
wrestling the roofs of every house,
leaving the atmosphere in the
chaos of brownness.
As the ember months slip into
water, our bodies frown at the
smile of the rivers, now with
heads tinted in fog.
Our lips split like a walnut, and our
dark skins crack into whiteness — if
only we had the sultan’s robes.
Gani ya fi ji, until you see for yourself
this news won’t make sense.
