by Awogbemila Temitope Ayodeji
Axiom i: : where x is the a winged world of Integrable derivatives – I, you, two mp3 players and Mobutu * Four of us were shadows of ourselves, the world breaths in multiples of four.
Axiom ii: Our shadows flew into a trance of lost reverie – yours and mine
Because you mistakenly punched the sun twice and it un-fattened into two stars, four of us walked to discover our shadows sick of this unwise followership from the crack of dawn.
In its wake, you tripped the light fantastic into axiom ii and thudded twice, twice, Note! You are brave and kindly!
Axiom iii: Avoid Crucifixion at a cost. Your mp3 player paused itself when boogies couldn’t make us kerfs ,It’s your calculous body of humanitarian service.
Out of the blue! In your pouch, an android’s Mp3 player’s screen touched itself,
Played itself, got us unfocused in a way that focused us,
It played a soul-Asylum’s track – runaway train and got its sound sway ready to play Michael Jackson’s – we are the world. It opinioned us to wave ourselves wrinkled into the mouth of a waifish orphan,
His profile intertwined with advanced level poverty etched on his forehead: “Scampered while vaulting back to Mongono, with crutches to discover his missing leg, lost”
He opened his mouth, we found you, He opened it further to holler “help”, Plus we found Mobutu obscuring in his cry, He opened it in details, Am lost, Unfound flying down his throat, Only you was sitting on his tongue, yapping. You wore skin-made dark mask
With a bad buzz sore and a small slice of sorrow sewn sedulously, For lack of battle, For we were three darker hound’s-tooth motifs, Un-bedazzled. Then, the you outside heard the song skipping in axiom iii Chanting through The second song, whose song sung was a sign of the world’s calculus, am brought into being!
The world chanted you, us – Suited up with a waif’s mouth, A frail, petite waif yet to eat today, Help! The sun is here to launch her revenge , the sun stays as a star.
You feed him – you’ve fed yourself. You saved the world inside a waif
You unknotted the calculus of the world. You flew axiom four. Where y is you,
= humanitarian services.
*Mobutu: any other person that doesn’t want to be me or you.