Adeola Adegoke

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Adeola Adegoke
Saturday 19 August 2023

AFTER THE SHOOTINGS

Yusuf Olatunji was on play at 9,
The radio is already a toxic dancer
since there are only ashes left at stations
Every street had become lonely,
The land is a burning merchant
and we couldn't call God at a time
or we turn host for unguarded bullets
Before today, my brother didn't know God,
He disowned me and called Jesus his brother
If only Sam 23: 1 is real
and the writer is African
If only Luke 6: 37 is real
and we offered our deities to fire
If only John 1: 9 is real
and we bowed in fear before this,
Then maybe our bones,
Aishwarya practising ballet at 34th Street
Janet practising Sunday sermon that morning,
Many who had letter between A-Z in their names
wouldn't witness sadness wrapped in grenades
or purple gunny that became guillotine of death
Yusuf Olatunji continued playing;
'Agbalagbà tón ta róbà féye'
Around 5 in the evening, we called God, again?
Quran 28: 70

'Agbalagbà tón ta róbà féye' - An album



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