Far and beyondthe horizon of comfortInto a jungle of huddle, puzzles and struggles.A place where the sun refuses to shineits golden ray upon the eyes of the foresighted.A place where souls are painted with stains of pain.Goals are ornamented with…
Going Mad in Nsukka Mọ́renikeji, God is dead, and I’ve been binge-watching videos on YouTube. I swear, I am not trying to be a woke babe. The world is made of blood, and we are all gut-deep lacerations, asymmetrical axes,…
Praise Osawaru (he/him) is a writer of Bini descent. A Best of the Net, Pushcart Prize, and Nina Riggs Poetry Award nominee….
after Georgia Ifunaya’s Self-Love running waterfrom the showerbecomes hands& crawl my skinlike cover crops over soil, planting a million pimples on my body—a land fertilewith want. I slide into the tunnelof my left palm’s indexand thumb, slippery like okra’s drawmade from soap and water. this…
Tension should not be the umbrella word for that jolt that reverberates through your bones and skin when you brush a live wire on a day IKEDC forgets to flick the switch off in your zone because it does more…