Poetry: Gambaga*

By L.S. Mensah

Scarp that like a scar
Grazes the savannah
Will you not speak?

Your sandstone dewlaps
Drape this land, drunk
With its knowledges

Of dry places. Look!
Your Janus faces crack
With the diviner’s whip.

They tell me you
Harbour a coven
Of nipples, far from

The gaze of rivers
And their tributaries.
The lonely baobab

Which once walked
The road of revolutions
Now looks away, burdened

With its singular survival.
Like a fortress you rise
In the non fog, basking

In the cricket’s motet.
And at the moo
Of the zebu’s laughter,

Pigeons lift broken nipples
To the sun, but those
With the certainties

Of settled belief, block
the rainbow’s
Radiance by the flick of
flywhisks.
All this –  in the shadow
of your plateau.

Oh scarp that wags a tail
At the xylophone’s wail?
Have you no shame?

*From the Akwantuo archives, originally published in 2009. Because #poetryistimeless

Want More Akwantuo Poetry?
Elmina Castle, By L.S. Mensah
We Are Lost, By Francis Kokutse

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