Olla Podrida by Sunday T. Saheed

at night, we gently walk the land.

perhaps, the fluffy sand will erase our

footsteps or draw lines around our bare feet.

there are roses and tulips all around us,

& a guitarist that plays tunes and hymns,

heads down at the portico.

hymns of how tomorrow is a white oak stake

and vervains, and sunlight.

at night, we shape-shift into the poem we 

write, and we spill ink into the aperture

of our grievances and fear —all that keeps

us out. When you see us, with brass,

you should know that’s our blankets. The 

midnight lamp —our purplish fireflies.

we have forgotten how to walk with the legs

but the heart surfs us through the wild now.

a little girl dropped yesterday 

like a velvety wine at a shindig. She said

someone with a large mouth sets her image

on a pyre. We break ourselves into silence

like glasses. There is a veil between here

and the underworld.

the line of the veil is getting thinner.

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Sunday T. Saheed(he/him) is a Nigerian writer and the 1st runner-up for the Nigeria Prize for Teen Authors, 2021. His works have appeared or are forthcoming on Rigorous Mag, Cajun Mutt Press, Giallo Lit, Gyroscope Review, Kalahari Review, Open Leaf Press, Spirited Muse Press, Cruzfolio and Applied Worldwide.