wildscape. literary journal

Reckoning, No Requiem
by Nana T. Baffour-Awuah

I.
The news wakes me up
tired every day (what’s new?)
Here, someone asked
and another got axed
— both for the truth.
And elsewhere
the slaughter continues
while justice weeps and greed keeps.
 
II.
A hatemonger cloaks his cruelty in Christ;
he bears no cross but the fruit of his own words.
Poisoned fruit by which we know him
from which seeds spill
and sow more sickness
into hearts dying to destroy the other.
 
III.
The news wakes me up
tired, every night (what’s new?)
demanding my attention, insisting
I mourn not for the poor
or corpsed children
but for the false saint
until I boil with a fury that is alien.
 
IV.
And elsewhere, strange fruit
sprouted from the sickness
swings in the southern breeze
cuts Black shadows in the morning sun.
(“No evidence of foul play”)
And justice weeps while greed keeps.
 
V.
I want to know what you must burn of your soul
and what holy vows you must you break
and how you litigate your humanity
so you cannot see the difference between
good and the evil you have made your god.
How many ways will you angle the mirror
so the truth staring back doesn’t revolt your insides?

about the author // Nana T. Baffour-Awuah