Scylla, stay close

Five people in a luxury car caught up

in a grand, sad sadness of leather seats

and smooth wheels with tires scientifically

certified millimetre perfect tires that

blink at the rocks and the twigs and leaves.

Ogun State, guns. Printers printing guns.

Machines and Zeus, ruler and fondler of

the world: the world and all it’s guts,

the gently roasted belly of diamonds

and pretzels in a foreman’s lunchbox.

Scylla, stay close to the rocks

Enola has come and she has

twenty-six hundred heads.

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