Laughing! When it's not Funny

You don't need to know what happened during the great flood if you were in Ikeja, Lagos, Nigeria, this evening. It was a great flood but this time with less disasters.
It was raining heavily and even the gutters were vomiting their contents on the road. the road meant for cars became very close to being used by Speed boats. I was drenched, so drenched I was competing with Yemoja in wetness.



But I was laughing. I really don't know laughter filled my throats these days. I wanted to curse but I just couldn't ...I was so cold I need a warm embrace from...(haahahah)
Women were shouting on top of their voices, passengers were complaining that the buses were not as good as umbrellas. the air was a backlash of angry airs. My shoes were soaked, my socks sucked till it began to convulse. It was all good though, it was some form of baptism.


Today of all days, today that I almost got my first memo from one of my no-nonsense editors. Today... but after the issues were sorted out-that's what I can tell
you.Then I was shocked, so fast? so fast! As in, so fast! but I think the angels waded in.

After all the troubles, I can only say I have been prepared for the worst. My past failures as a growing child and as a student in the University have made me
tough at heart and with enough pricking pins to kick back. I am left in this wide pool of life and I am learning to swim. I have grown my gills. I am left to
grow my skill. I love reality than fiction. I love harsh reality than fictional hope. I have gotten gashes but I have decided not to stop the gashes in this warfare of thoroughfares. In many trains of traducers, I have fought. What else do you want from me but laughter.

I have learnt to prepare for the worst.

Now I am just reflecting. No disrespect to my boss. In fact, I love her and her leadership technique.But before, I would have being in tears even after
the saving grace. All that innocent fear is gone at life's gun point. when you learn that there will be many Gun points, you prepare yourself with
experience or other techniques to prevent being gone.

Life is teacher with grey hair, big spectacle like a retired postman, laughing at all of us for hurdles we cross, we manage to cross and fail to cross.

Bearing It

My lover would leave in the morning
at 5 o'clock
Oh sorry-off to work before 5'o clock
she will tell me my fight was seduction
and that she enjoyed us.



My lover will come home late at night
and will not seek me-thought I am there unhearing the tales of terrible traffic
By 4'o clock, she will spur for a fight
that fight!



IS IT AN EARLY MORNING DOSAGE?
WHAT IS ALL THIS ABOUT?
SO THIS IS WHAT ALL THIS IS ABOUT?
the world is a hybrid of pigeon holes and roundabouts
what we feed on, is not what we live on.



She wants what I don't want
-to make babies-I guess, I don't really know what she wants!
When I want her to hold
she leaves me in the cold
to rein over rains and the lonesomeness of the early rays




My love leaves at 3'o clock
with a quarrel of some sought
I AM FINDING SOMETHING TO EAT
TO MAKE ME HAPPY
JUST ANYTHING TO FINGER AND TASTE
TO ANYTHING TO DIP IN A HASTE-told my elder sister the tale.

She knocks loudly at 4'o clock
Open
And without caution, rushly gets what we both want
SPONTANEOUS!
Conflict and climax like a book by anybody worth it.

Wait
Wait what does she want?
She will be leaving at 5'O CLOCK
with her unstable heart being crested
with my unstable mind still feasted.
Femi Morgan