“Some Synonym of Practice I Am” by Olatunde Osinaike

I finally want to talk about it

has taken me a decade more

than most and all my wisdom

teeth have fallen victim by now

there is a draft buried beneath

this you will never know of

a pleasure of released dioxide and

simile I don’t write because

the block asks I do this out of

an empathy for myself, a backlog

of tears and this body knows that

the deal is ending soon it just thinks

it can wait out having to pay

the delivery fee and this is just

like me to go on and on nodding

to the tune of ephemera in my head

without letting go I can count on one

hand how many fingers I have lifted

to speak to my grandmother or

times I even perused a bible yet I

could tell you more about how

many times I opened my mouth

for favor this week alone.

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Olatunde Osinaike called us from Nashville, TN.

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