***

Rehearsing the Motionless State of Dead Bodies

I lay down, with my back on the bed
It had not always been so – until the
Doctor said I had no back bone, that
In fact my limbs had all crumbled
Into water; into dead trees; into things
That cannot stir like the wind or rustle.
Mother heaves a sigh as she watches me
Lay still like a lake, like stagnant water –
Unable to trail my shadow back to where
It first began. Mother is pain – I jump into
Her eyes and drown in her vision – how
She reinvents the story of her crippled son.
“He did not leave the house that day, he had
Listened to me, he had rehearsed the motionless
State of dead bodies – how they manage to still
Themselves without jumping into a river that’ll
Swallow a parting lip before it even sprouts into a
Protest or a question lingering on the tip of a patriot’s
Tongue” tears are stranded waters whose home have
Been raided by grief and grief is my mother throwing
My bones into alternate realities – places that have me
Far away from where the soldier’s bullet first concluded
To make home, my spinal cord.

***

Michael Imossan is a writer keen on expressing himself through all genre of literature, he loves being in class —whether as a teacher or a student, he loves being in class. He is a joint winner of the Shuzia Redemption Poetry contest, he is a winner of the poetrycolumn-nnd Weekly poetry contest. He has been longlisted for the Nigeriannewsdirect poetry prize 2020. He is a second place winner of the Letters To The Lion Of JADA Spoken word poetry competition. He has been a judge of the FASA spoken word slam. His works have been/are forthcoming on Inertia Teens Magazine, Small Leaf Press, FieryScribe Review, poetrycolumn-nnd, Onlney Magazines and Salamander Ink. Also, he has been interviewed and published by The Daily Trust Newspaper.

Tweet him via @michael_imossan.
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