Mr. Clerk
written by: Uchechukwu Onyedikam
I opened up my hands wide
scatter regrets in the hot wind
coloring the sun’s light, they denied me
but now I’m offering flowers
of resurrection to the dead
of those countless grave bodies.
I proclaim Hosanna to the reborn
of my soul tracing its ancestral music
to the lineage of Basho!
Within me, I once vanished on an aborted time
and hie to Kolob: I dressed like them…
I resembled them… bearing the mark
of the Saints. Of this truth I testify…
lowered my shoulders and bent my back
so He could ride a donkey —
through the rise and fall of days.
An insane man, I was on the calling
set my hands to labouring on His farm.
Oh, the whistling of passing wind
was my self, the roaring intuition
down yonder was my Óri; the echo
through the reeds was my voice.
This divine house I lived in was on
boulder rocks full of comedy.
full sacrament
passing of bread and water
a deep breath
already
out of touch
- Mr. Clerk - June 23, 2025
- Lost - May 3, 2024
- The Motive - June 12, 2023
