every young poet who dies is chemtrail in the skies
with its nodes as stars that watch over us in the night
every young poet who dies is a letter that gets missing from alphabet
in kabul a girl smuggles her life through telephone lines
to a faraway land where she can wiggle, spew landai
in baga a boy postpones his dreams and sings songs that polish his death
in garissa lifetimes file out like shadows, like onions being
chopped on a kitchen board
in chibok a father assembles himself in daughter's bedroom
like he's expecting parcel from the post office
a mother is temple with her god stolen
she dies every day by the
river she is weed in rice farm
there is poetry
in the voices of children who recall magic from the wind
in boys whose fleet of muscles reinvent azonto
in girls whose fingers wander in puzzles
every young poet who dies is an unrequited love to history
every young poet who dies is a library set ablaze by its own sun
for every young poet who dies everything is poetry
for every young poet who dies this poem does not end
Photo of Kwabena Agyare Yeboah
Kwabena Agyare Yeboah lives and writes from Kumasi, Ghana.