Two Poems by Hussain Ahmed

My Murder Client by Brad Rose
April 28, 2018
Four Poems by Alejandro Pérez
April 30, 2018

 

Evacuation

where do we go from here/ it’s another life time/
every man my mother falls in love with/ ends up drowning
this means I grew up attending funerals of my many fathers/
the empty rooms they leave behind mourns the loneliness
that comes with dark/|
ode ti aba wo aso lo, ni aofi juwe re, nigba ti obagbo
all my father’s cloths had lost it shades before I turned ten/
she tells me I have his flat nose/ as all the other men in her life
I was born not to live for long/ and this is not her fault/
I took her for a dinner on her birthday/ and she tells me of secrets
that women knits with the hem of their wedding gowns/
she tells of how her mother died trying to get herself baptized/
on the news/ a man makes a joke that the ghost of a black woman causes the hurricane/
my mother says the woman was her mother/ she recognizes the talisman
around her neck/ the scientist said it is a dropsonde/
it radios signals had been sent for long/ but no one understands her accent/
if the woman had not been taken away from her children/
none of us would have go down on our knees/ when they sing the national anthem

 

Madness

I hear you tell me to say my prayers aloud/
only then do you know if the halved tablets/ truly|
halves my restlessness/ she tells me I must
shut my mouth/ if I want to remain her lover/
her god does not like noise/ I hummed the names
of the three nurses that I met on my first visit/
all three have forgotten my name/ one of them
said she left her glasses at home/ and she is not sure she
can recall my voice/ another says our names sounds the same/
there is no need to bother her brains/ the third nurse
committed suicide/ when you threaten to shoot yourself/
the doctor walks in/ and we all fall on our knees to worship him/
he ordained our mothers/ he made them promise him/
they will nurse our heads until it stops to ache/ he tells us to drink water
when the drugs are finished/ to drink water until we feel dissolved
from within and fears to turn into a river/
mother held my hand/ and she reminds me to never bare my teeth/
the whole world suffers from psychosis/
if they see you laugh/ you will remind them of a displaced lover


Hussain Ahmed is a Nigerian writer and environmentalist. His poems are featured or forthcoming in Puerto del Sol, Prairie Schooner, Cherry Tree, Yemassee, Gigantic Sequins, and elsewhere.