ZODML Poetry Corner: Post-Humous Defence Against Rancid Feast of Pummelling Fist

This week we feature a stirring poem by Roland Ndu Akpe. Are you a poet (or short fiction/opinion piece/book review writer)? Send your work to [email protected] for a chance to be featured on the ZODML blog!
 
Leave me stinking
deep. Clash of stinks
inhabit the beats that
this heart should. Glue
me into one from
all pieces that once were one,
I pray.

A fistula of emotions
held in chokehold
belching grime with a buzz buzz
of cologne bussing its
way down this throat is what
I am.
Fistula. Feast of hernia'd innards
surviving in the tearing of the clothing
that is membrane mixing mucosa juices
that should be tolerant, by logic,
but is
infection,
rotting affection,
Save our soul, oh Lord!
Testosterone that we should love is
the death knell to our innocence
in ringing tolls of
trust
thrust
down the throat that this legs
hide like lips for shy smiles
Smiles shall issue forth from this throat,
I know.
But
these legs shall hide them for today,
tomorrow
and the day after
hidden behind the horizon
of days at the cusp of birth from mud
of witches' day.