moses okundaye

i dont want to do it
flirt with being jewish
my father’s name is moses
sailed on sewage
to a tablet top he could touch
but he sailed pass the promise

i want to stay in my father’s house
in his bed, on his couch
legs tucked in the penny pockets
wishing nothing, sated
seated on the right hand of god
the father, nakeding my ghosts
transparent now
opaque now

i don’t want things to change
stay before i go away
wait before i leave you
and go wandering in my manner
in that way of weys
and okundayes

in search of all the GOD that prays 

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