Jacob Kobina Ayiah Mensah
Throbbing
Near the paving stones that lead me to the courtyard I carve you
the wedding rings and you erase the footprints and leave the cane
chairs in the dew. The statue is out of his hysterias and out of
course someone is coming downstairs and someone is finally able
to drift off to sleep in a bedroom. The heads are clay that had
been parked cut by the fence. They are the darnedest things I am
seeing to feel the change after the headaches and bad dreams. I am
trying to persuade you to look like someone running through a
potato garden after the journey.