Poem – The Date (By Nome Patrick)
There is no souls or solos
any mileage from here
and the breath of the atmosphere is asinine
lost in the blurry of nature
like an artistic totem behind pencils.
It’s just you and me
opposite the encirclement of this dining…
we won’t wrap our lips into whispers
of love or anything that sails above,
of lust or anything that births odd orgasms,
Of entertainment or the little parrot’s songs
like some jolly Juliets and romantic Romeos do,
we’ll just sit and suckle the breaths
of our presence with grogginess,
not too weak to sing or whisper
but scare the air might steal our eulogies
the parrot my mock our tarradiddles,
No ‘I love you’ or ‘You’re my sparkle.’
for the deserted plates and dead forks
may snatch it away.
So let our mobiles concatenate our conversations
like rivers do to fishes and fishermen.
Let’s nail our now as a noema
of high school teens
lost in the oblongata of technology.
Nome Patrick is a poet and writer who writes from Lagos, Nigeria. He is a student and believes in writing as a means to reaching the whole wide world.