And I realize
The only thing;
The only animal
The only creature I really hate
Is myself

I am looking for someone who knows how to stay
Someone who ignores the bad breath
That walks out of my mouth when I say the words,
"Will you stay with me?"
Someone who won't get scared seeing the scars
Well lodged under my fitted white t-shirts.
I am looking for someone who looks beyond
The words 'commitments' and waits for me
To stutter the right words at the right time
About the right time.

I am not made of plastic or steel
Diamonds belong to the rocks
and songs that praise dead warriors.
But I am made of dust. The one you
trample upon- On the busy streets of New York
Or the rowdy streets of Ikeja-under-bridge.
Dust that won't stay.

My emotions bleed like the felt tip pen
In one moment's rush and in another second's silence
Like the ocean tide.

Like the ocean's tide, sometimes I get high
Sometimes low. The winds that blow
Never leave me to my own predictions.

I wear a shell of manhood
One that masks the same little boy
Who lived on a mother's breast;
The same boy who bit his nails
At every opportunity. The same boy
Who never knew the difference between
right or wrong.
visit or stay.


I know what it feels like to be a forest
And I know what it feels like to be a tree.
My bark is tough and my leaves wide
I can shade from the beating pelts of spring's rain
The Sun and I have an alliance
And anyone that lives under my arms
Owns a certain glow.
I am looking for someone
Whose roots will stay firm to the ground
Curled around mine like the lomp of the
Nigerian man's hair.
I am looking for someone
who will stay.


Will you stay?

I could never be a poet,
I don't seem to have a way with words.
They don't flow like a river...
Or come to me on a breeze...
I just stumble upon them,
Purely by mistake.

I could never be a poet,
Because my work is just for me.
Call me selfish...or stupid...
To both I would agree,
Because I seem to spout stupidity,
And I keep it all to me...

I could never be a poet,
My words are not beautiful nor smart,
So I look to you in awe,
Your words drifting along,
Fitting together perfectly...
Because you, my friend, are a Poet.

They warned me often about my lavish spendings
and reckless lifestyle.
They warned me with heavy words like

poverty,
sleep,
children,
future,
hunger.


But I would not listen.
So they gathered and talked amongst themselves.
Planned for the day I would come late,
Asked that I followed them to get some latte
Then we parked at the place of initiation.

Women talking in languages other than my fluent tongue,
Smokes and fires! Firewood and charcoal!





Three days later, I'm driving to Aromire Road
For my steady diet of akara* and bread.

"Oh Seye, you now eat 'bean cakes'?"

Shave your head
Paint your face purple
And wear a zebra jumpsuit

Eat with both hands
Wink at passing strangers
And live in a secluded cabin

Join the circle of oddies
Tainted by social norm