Last laugh
The goat with a slit throat,
tongue lolls, blood droplets
form burnt skin blisters
on baked Omoba soil.
My witchdoctor grandfather
cuts up the carcass, spending hours
cleaning, praying and cutting
as the stink of goat douses the air.
Seven-year-old eyes transfixed
by the smirk on the goat’s face.
This sufferer with mirth
as his song – has he breathed
his last chuckle, or has Imo miri
thrown him a lifeline?
*Imo miri - God of the Sea
Do stay connected with my Wirral Walk training updates HERE. This week's entry is titled 'Upping the ante' :)
1 comment:
hmmmm, depressing in an odd way. Who is one to feel more sorry for? The goat or the child... or even the grandfather?
LJ
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