issue one
Lamb at a Siren's table
By I echo
Seasons shed seasons and oh thee siren
to my day tremors your smile stabs
its way into my sleep and turns crux
On gravity’s stool my eyes clobber
till worn shackles free to the moon's touch
Yet in staggery footing i saunter to an arena
where smiles upheave to my daydreams–
like glitter on seashells hung to post
primed for a never-ending feast
When the child of morning comes
rosey-fingered dawn i canker with nausea–
the size of a country’s tax collections till
dazedly fury welcomes wedding bells tinkering
to banquets of mouths feasting
to my heart chopped to unending bits
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about the author:
I Echo is a Ghanaian-Nigerian journeyman writer writing to save his life.
Previously published under the name "Chris Baah," some of his works have been published or are forthcoming in African Writers Magazine, Kalahari Review, New Note Poetry, among others.
He tweets on @AyeEcho