Orlando Vutete Poems

With woes unheard
like the prophecy of a neonate
They grew up in tenebrosity
Serenaded by loud lullabies
...

Memories do nothing but spiral
They are just a glorious carcass
Scaring the artistry inside of me
so I blot the canvas
...

Sometimes in April you were born
With infantile wails mingling with the rustling sound
of shedding zebrawood leaves getting torn
Apart by the foot of a two year old bound
...

Dear Beverly, imagine if I could sing
I would gather up feathers and struggle with the birds
Strum a poor banjo up to the last string
Chant every love song until I'm wheezing out of words
...