Friday, June 17, 2016

old kobby. spins

waiting in line to buy a shot of something hot
to numb the sociable cells of his stomach
old kobby taps his feet and deepens his grin.
he embeds the exact picture of the ball of fufu he'd prepared at home
zooming in and out in his head.
today is just like every other sunday
but today, he grows deservingly impatient,
once again
at yaa maame's blue kiosk
yaa maame is away.
her daughter is on vacation and on the job.
it's been almost twenty minutes since he arrived
the fractions of time come clothed in years
as the stench of stale alcohol invades and almost colonizes his lungs.

the sun in his face finds solace. he does otherwise
more years speed by
as he finally sits with his fourth glass of akpeteshie
and witnesses sunshine colour itself dark orange
and 'pepperfootedly' yellows into moon.
he taps the imaginary watch on his left wrist
and snaps out of the momentary trance
when a warm zephyr of voice knocks at his ears
"old sweet kobby, make we go do one. I no go charge you plenty."
wearing little black lace, tall boots, long red nails fencing a glass full,
this lady walks over, with a strut that shows her feet knows night.

old kobby looks away,
rather cultivating attention in the two chatterboxed men beside him playing checkers
they were engaged in the moment like sweltering security for vote counts, 
almost leaning into the game 
accommodated generously centimetres away from the scanty shade. 
the lady conveys her heavy set breasts which breathe endlessly like caterpillar flesh
right into old kobby's face
he almost gives up to ghost back unto the sidewalk that leads home
but is pinned down like an anthropologist's specimen 
"you know say old man no go last pass 5 minutes sef."
old kobby spins into the wheel to lose some fortune for some bliss
"I get fufu for house. mek we go?"
they pick themselves up and vanish into the night
their shadows become gangrene memory in the distance
each one an untameable kite