Queueless Lines


Kolade Ajayi


Queueless Lines

From “A Poet’s Struggles”



(Traffic of a Night…)


I AM a passage tonight to the

rhythms of crabs…


I sit buttock-deep on this hearth

to steam the whirlwinds of my eyes…


But lamps are etherized

on the lap-stands of this night,


and it is not the time for wax…


So ants can file-out of trails

rain-drains can meet and kiss into flood

the speed of darkness may rise or rot.


It’s not the night for wax…



 (Queueless lines…)


ONE SAYS to the other my odour first,

disorder slays the holding halo…


Crested eloquences, calling in no turn

crush the larynx of pen


lights summate to break

the banks of hell…


And now the feet are blind,

from the filtered punch of these summations


now the feet are blind…


The spill is too enormous to beat,

and ego-gods sit their darknesses

in kernels of light…


I split my throat in search of tuning,

the lines kept at it


like staggering flies…