By Azaiouris Y. Zeon
chapter 1:
like how the blue sky translates into
a dark & gray field for the coming of rain,
a boy’s eyes & heart switch into battlegrounds.
he watched his father turned into a conflagration— & burn the
covering of his body— exposed him to the pathogens of things.
chapter 2:
there are times you sit & watch terrors come to you,
and you cannot roll a stone to terminate your own suffering.
you have watched home become a terrible place.
you have watched the night fail the rivers you pulled out of your eyes.
chapter 3:
your father, a tall-dark skinned man, turned into a nomad.
your home is no longer his home. he finds joy in the dirt.
chapter 4:
on Feb 14, 2011, in the large church,
the pastor said …“let no man put asunder”,
but your father has failed the lesson of an egg.
chapter 5:
but there’s one sure thing,
the universe would never bend itself for the desire of a boy.
maybe your father was meant to fly, fly, fly, fly out
of home into a new beginning to end you.
Azaiouris Y. Zeon writes from postwar Liberia. He studies Biomedical Science at the University of Liberia. His works have appeared in The Kalahari Review, The Shallow Tales Review, Afritondo, ArtLounge, EBOquill, Spillwords, Ngiga Review, & else.He tweets @231Aza.
Nice one, bro.