Black Boy Review

At The Strike of Noon by Okwuchi Uzosike

How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.

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Mind like a disaster scene
Scattered carcasses half
devoured by the vultures
Feels like a field of thorns
uncertain where to set foot
poor ravaged little heart
leaking down to the bowel
like squeezed in the devil’s palm
This here your words
We would live till we die
deadened little heart
Sailing the dark gray waters
along a thousand unsettled
and tormented once mortal spirits.

Okwuchi Uzosike writes from Milan, Italy.

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