the propped up edges of my life are
wobbling again. each garment of
growing trees bustling with urgency
as if made for the act, as if its darkness
learned to spread over
a scarecrow. these days, I walk
out into the fields, I give in to
the red light of the perpendicular
moon on my skin, I let the gauntlet
down, then the open threads of
sobriety, then reach for the heft of
bones pitted against each soft gush
of light. nothing blooms that is not
from a place of ruin. the birdsong
watered down by shifting mildews,
the benevolence sprouting like confetti,
the gift of whispers in the dark. how
quickly the days grow old. how
rambunctious the hands unknotting
the loop of entwined fates. I look
back at all the oceans that have
washed through me, none knows
where I was most unclean.
Goodnews Karibo is an Ijaw poet from Abua, Rivers State. He is a Best of the Net nominee. In 2023 he emerged as a finalist in the Unserious Collective Fellowship. Goodnews tweets via @slendergrass.