First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 39

MINCEMEAT - Chukwuemeka “Deus” Njoku
Take here
The waters of her broken heart
Melted in the Saucepan of your abuse
How savoury it must taste
The generous serving of her mincemeat
Heated and stewed
Garnished and spiced.
Wash down the lingering parts of the broth
With the juice of her being
Feed your ego without relent
Till you belch from the surfeit of her broken self
Do not restrain
You are almost there
Soon you shall be done with this serving of the Lamb
Handed you as a leashed gift for coming-of-age
Bleating Ewes are not to be listened to
Their leash transform to gold
An inheritance of privilege
Conferred at the exchange of new age cowries
King of a modern transaction
The reigning of yourself in the realm of your folly
Haughty hands exiting a pouch
Cast ten shillings into unsuspecting palms
Clutching falsehood as the symbol of fulfillment
For a daughter sown to yield increase
By a widow in a hut lacking a window
You put out the flame of her excitement
Shillings killing feelings
This broken heart
Dripping of the blood of an anemic daughter
Carried into the realm of your alternate universe.
Chukwuemeka “Deus” Njoku
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