Ash Of A Laugh

Poem By Felix Bongjoh

(based on a flamy party)


(i)

A cackled laugh
ignites a chat,
roasts the animal
you're, flattening

you, splayed
and quartered,
like a speckled trout,
as you bleed,

a bumpy, wrinkled
face folding up
for a chuckle

carrying
the cloudy wrinkles
of a pug dog's smile,

paddled and jammed
in a smirk's canoe
pouncing back at you,

when you cannot
catch the stingray,

an arrow-lipped
giggle jumping
into a clarinet's voice

to land in the ear
like a catapulted pebble
of the slashed

jerky roar of a voice
carrying venom,
the snake's tail
still coiling and curling,

as it cuts off
an angle
for the forked

prod at a man's
curved lips
too watery to be dry.

(ii)

In a high wave
a chortle
from a watery mouth

flips you over
into a deep watershed
drowns the beast
of you, cutting off

the sky
of a peacock's tail
you carry,

when your shoulders
rise above your head
for a tall tree shrug

shedding off all leaves
and flowers
rolled off by a face
planted into
a convulsion of laughter


that hurls off
a rattled cock's crow
at you to wake you

up from cackling grass
in a harmattan
bush, the blaze of popping
laughter grinding

and spitting you back,
as ash, when a man
throws back the memory
of the hawk

you were, devouring
every chick
of your squawk
burning him into ashes.

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