The Message Poem by Olalekan Joseph Ajayi

Knocks of crystals upon rusty pans
Snakes flurry through craggy scapes
Ungerminated seeds disentombed
Twisted hoses direct our blood-sweat
Into gutters oozing with fetid scum
Setting mercenary mozzies against us

Should there be an emissary?

Sudden flares of fire gods look down
The bongos speak in silence
Maraca gourds are broken
Unmeasured steps seize the floor
Dancers on forced limps

Who shall be messenger?

M-e-s-h-u-g-g-e-n-a-h!

Mine are naked revelations
Uttered by an ordained tongue
And if I speak not of ornaments
It is because
Dregs have become reflectors

Meshuggenah has spoken
Let another hearken