AMINU MAHMUD

NOTE TO MY EX-WIFE

The home you abandoned,
wears your face.

The street you fled,
bears your name.

O woman,
I recognise your face

from the streets of your wanderings,
from the names you've since taken.

DRUNKEN ROAD

The road staggers ahead:
a shadow stutters,
and stares.

Wayfarer,
wipe dregs off your gourd;
the road I think is drunk.

AFTER

After the last mourner has gone
who keeps vigil over gravestones?

After the star masquerader has departed
who applauds the starlet?

PROVERBIAL TONGUE

The runner that boasts of his legs
should remember the road that overcame the hyena.

The frog that prides in its well
should remember the deep sea.

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