December 2022


In this issue

Contents

Poetry

The First Civil War in Gombe 1974-1978

the only observer of this war, a woman, she would recall, for years the haunting images of drinking blood from the enemies’ wounds a bestial attack on the body, long dead, of one of the defenders

Grief

a starless, smothering blanket of beastly odour. Pinned down, your mind sifts and sifts through the shock swiftly, recalling the ranger’s warning:               it always goes for your face, cover it with your hands, curve your body into a C, and be still;

The Same Sun

on the backs of those who bow on the believer and the unbeliever on the protestant and the catholic on the anglican and the jew on the muslim and the hindu

Cicada Song

My aunt’s house does not exist anymore the little white house with a secret door leading into the garden flooded with soft camellias the yard adorned with a magnolia tree

2 Poems by Poornima Laxmeshwar

Ajji oiled and combed my hair for hours. She said that combing is kindness as though the small-teethed comb could catch and carry my worries, and not just lice. Call me prejudiced but the C words do not stick like sweat on my skin – choice, consent, calcium. I suffer from deficiencies of my own making. That’s how marriages work, you say.

90007

you the thump-thump bass as I drowned in the bellow of our ballad, worn leather mouthing words from neon lights. Skyline clumped beneath the white crescents of your nails; sprinkled into smog like glitter, these two lungs exhaling ten intertwined fingers and