Home Poems Read: THE BIRTH OF JULY



In the hard slog of June, woolgathering,

I saw you

Wagtail on a tangled branch

Plowing the uterus of the season, to

be born—-

The sky, an oozing scalp of teardrops

Blinding broomstick like the flaming fingers

of Agbara across my windowsill

A baby whimpering, wiggling, a squirming

worm in the sky

Crossing the threshold of the season

Of the comings and goings, of the goings

and comings—–

Dark grotto of Mother Idoto. This birth, your

purgation. Samsara of the telluric cycle

Hatched from your eggshell July. I,

eggcorn of the apocalypse

Eclipse of a nebulous solstice

The amniotic sac of the pregnant sky

Burst before the midwife. A baby cried.

Cradling in my palm, at the break of dawn,


A sprig of holly at the backyard, dancing to

the kettledrums of your birth

Happy tendrils snaking into tether

Water pebbles bestrew on my veranda

And all the earth, dressed up in green


Fanfare of wobbling bells in sky, from the

spire of Amadioha

As Town Crier of your birth, my birth

Avatar of our pantheon; Nelson Mandela,

hound of our literati; Wole Soyinka

And Okunkpor, the ugly masquerade that

unearth dirty secrets….

We, the flaming fingers of your hand

We that sucked your amniotic liquid—-

An uncastrated fully-fledged he-goat,

reliquary of python tooth, red chalk and

a calabash of hallowed palm wine for

your rite-of-passage

July, the emissary of the birth of the sages

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