Lagos- London

Submitted by Anikulapo

The red phone Booth—

I see the love of London’s pigeons
Since yester-night was like pollen
Of nexus and, there was fidelity
In Lagos prominence.

Wait, there is a penetration of love
Panoply circumstance at my fringe
And before now, there is a sudden
Coming of today reflection in London’s
Restaurants; but ageless.

I have seen darkness as cloudy in Lagos
While London confusing ideas musters
From Heathrow marble to relief Muritala
In his soldiery gossamer of pain,
To espy a memory from colonial era
And children chant the Harmattan meagre.

Before the varying London dew
Coalesce with comparative warmth
Of Lagos routine. Since love plaits
Girls like a picnic in London’s eye.

From the red phone booth—

The conversation was diverted
In a misspelled voice to a brunette;
Larceny, there is Nigeria, here, I hold on:
As Blake held the exchequer of London
And, I grumbled. With a lachrymose,
Before I see London as a dream

Hello: is this Lagos?

Then, I grasp snow from Lagos
As my phone booth time ends with
My prepaid dream. I hear Lagos’ embroidery
From my loneliness.



Published by Adekunle Writes

Adekunle is the author of a poetry collection, 'Arise Nigeria'. A young writer, Adekunle is a correspondent at Church Times Newspaper and Contributing Editor for Interviews at OPEN: Journal of Arts and Letters. He's the recipient of Daily Trust Newspaper's Poet of the week, January 2019. Follow me on Instagram on Adewunmi

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