The Interview

Donna performing on stage

Today I saw a man flying,

With his mouth, he navigated journeys of cities almost travelled, personalities almost becoming bossom friends and prestigious meetings almost had

I smiled, looking upon his proudly hoisted shoulders holding together threads of sagging cloth

His voice made of muscle, their sinews held together by the hope of tomorrow, always tomorrow…

He flapped his two winged-lips aligned and agreed, believing themselves, weaving the airs of memories made, monies almost paid before the reign of the EFCC, finest teas tasted and conversations held in high accented tones…not like our own

I saw from him a man lost and futures misplaced by minds uncertain

Generations like this one flew past in ages before

Tongue-pad heavy with aspirations of importance created by those flown before them

Leaving no maps by which navigations might be gleaned by those still scratching earth for feed

Which way to turn, which way would burn and which path would leave him less humiliated

“Do you believe me?” he asked, “Yes.” I lied

I reached out to hand him the transport fare he swore he just lost, on his way to the interview promised by his Uncles’ friend of societal importance

“May you do well at the interview” I politely lied “Thank you, may God bless you” he said, ‘maintaining mutual falsehood.

We both knew that he could not fly,

Would never know how,

Had never learnt the way,

But how handsome he looked while he flapped his lipped wings and tried.


Written 11th October, 2014 (10 minutes, but idea had been with me from afternoon).

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