ii. the irony
i was born sunday morning at 12.45 a.m,
on the 6th of august 2000,
after 10 hours spent in labour by my mother
was raised on: analogue kids T.V,
the words cynical primary school students and -
my (paternal) grandmother;
the only woman in this world as naive as 5-yr-old me,
whose favourite cup was plastic purple
(and my own, the pink)
whose back i scrubbed when asked,
but always avoided her mole
who i translated english to igbo for
back when my tongue was independent,
like the motherland
YOU ARE READING
that corpse you planted last year in your garden, has it begun to sprout?
PoetryA poem about the loss of my grandmother, in seven parts.
