The Atlantic

Refugee Year

...A poem for Sunday

partial recollection

...when we left our houses that april it was for history’s pleasure—...

my parents’ first meeting in a refugee camp

...he saw my mother in the scar-city— brown hair and yellow dusted-down dress...

A SONNET: A SLAUGHTER FIELD

...here is the harbor where it all began, here is the sand, the gnarled and towering sepulchre of salt ...

Gay in Nigeria, Black Male in America

I learned how to carry myself to protect my safety back home, only to come to the U.S. and face a different danger...

the road-lilies waited for us to pass and begone their leaves stiff hostages to the shifting clouds of dust...

the last prayer

i asked this of shame / be a stranger a halved face anyway a ruin like a bloody mouth unworthy ...

Nigeria’s crime against its Queer citizens

In the classic gay narrative, the closet is the only common denominator among members of the LGBTQI community...

ARROWSMITH

The History Nigeria is Fighting to Erase

"A war once fought never comes to an end,” my mother said. "The wounds crust over, but rarely ever heal."