Poetry from The Literary Review
Prayer to Eshu-Elegba
Jeffery Renard Allen
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We have come at the mercy of winds We have come at the mercy of sea From the shackles of the old to the shackles of the new Caved Cooned Numb in the localized fist Blind in the plastic order of the eyes Ever-hooded Empty-sleeved A hollow people drained of answers marrow liquefied and drawn off long black trail ink from a pen Men of reed our scribes whistle And the tongue takes odd turns in the throat Here we kneel on broken ground bent knees like arrows We kneel and with heavy heads beat humble rhythm in dirt Father bend down and hit Dance cools the town Bright hands varnish drums in polished sound They rise those who fell with the dark tide They rise those who fell with setting sun/crushed beneath They rise now with pierced glass sparkling in their knees It is time to cut the cane Father remove the rag from the bush When you dance on both feet trouble ceases |
