Jesse Ojuka

To be fair,
it’s all pornography
Now give me second
to put on my relatively
Cheap suit
Before you throw old watermelons at me
With or without awe
God is the light, the atoms, the fridge, the temperature
And the frozen scent of a your childhood memory
We are sewn through the echoes
Of all
A Jehovah’s witness
Is a torch
Send me your speech about the bible on Sunday
Admittedly,
it is a great book