LOE Lagos, July 1982

She came straight to his booth and said:
-You wanted to see me sir?
-He answered: - No …or actually yes.

She was young and beautiful.
Loe, an officer from Lagos Harbor,
in a white satin top and a black skirt..
He was surprised and disoriented.
Has somebody pulled a joke on him?

He thought: Shall I completely step under the waterfall of this event

-My name is Loe- she said and crossed her legs.
He introduced himself and went quiet from impression.
He had her here- alive, young, fragrant
superbiological-
with the freshness of unexplored virginity,
„glinting with the line of pearls in her defiant decollette”!!!

The muffled hum of trucks was beating the ears,
along with the sound of cranes and a policeman’s whistle.

-What? –she asked and removed her top with a smile.
He noticed the monumental and shiny blackness of her arms.
He felt on himself
the disturbing force of her eyes
the color of dark green cork leaves
covered with silver hair.

He felt a dispensation for promiscuity
in her movements,
which promised a boundless pleasure.

He focused on the lace of her petticoat with Venetian pattern,
A flower motive at the background of rows of small spiders
and little .

Rattles from the outside,
little bells and clapping hands….

Loe removed her skit and in her chocolate underwear
she approached him and began toundress slowly.

He remembered her shiny skin more than anything else.

Trembling of her finger tips
floated into transoceanic corners of his body….

She began to caress his feeler
as if to check if he was a good breeding, multi-estrus male
with a trustworthy pedigree.

He felt like a slave bought at the Arguin marketplace.

She touched his nipples
and began to adjust them like radio knobs.

His feeler reacted like an irritated snail’s antenna.

She tucked down onto him gently
wrapping with her soft limbs like a squid.
When she tucked down on him he closed his eyes…
He felt like an infant being held and
changed by a nanny.
He smelled olive and diapers
and soon a kind of anxiety
that he was being pushed down some slippery canal
going deeper and deeper down her tights
to the dark and warm archegonium
straight to Loe’s breeding chamber-
as if he was immersing himself in her unleashed softness
full of concentrated biological energy..

Their love act took form
of an enterokinetic conjugation of ciliates
freezing chronically in weakening convulsions
and a complete harmony
until reaching tender stillness;
they were like two wooden logs – white and black
like sapele and birch.

They floated across each other with a breath of passion.

They were penetrating taste of their underarms, saliva,
pressure of their swollen tendons, touch of lips, hair and tights.

In his head:

Sun glare over Apapa,
Loe’s black arms,
sound of a dragonfly scratching its wings against tail,
heaps of dung on quay,
tunnel sound of lyre,
female cockroaches with cocoons stuck to abdomens,
bloody fish sounds,
a crocodile between virgin’s thighs,

blue cheeks of Mandrills…


MARKETPLACE Lagos suburbs, July 1982

Dimmed sun over the marketplace
like a big stinging jellyfish.

The noise of tropical bazaar,
like a whip’s lash-
of music and a stream of sharp smells
of okra and hibiscus.




Pancakes with shrimps,
and oat porridge,
sahile from hot chilli,
pumpkins and peanuts.


Smoke and smolder.
Black swines in mud
with a greasy secretion
going down fringed hair
on nipples.


The sound of zither,
the smell of cedar and mahogany
dried fish and arachidic nuts
and later -
of a pink sapele,
mimosa bark.
and a violet aroma of palm oil.

Sculptures from okume tree:
a black crocodile creeping between spread tights of a virgin,
a man-eating monster with eyes on its feet.


Hands clapping and rattle from afar.
Hands clapping and rattle.

Dark-brown fur
and blue cheeks of Mandrills.

An excursion of pink strangers from Europe
behind the stand with monkeys;
Strangers representing the great white race,
a white breed of man,
with wavy or straight hair
and narrow and vaulted noses;
no cream, cocoa – whiteness only,
disgusting whiteness-
till disparage.


The sculpture seller caught his interest
like a dog catches a bone thrown into the air.
He run around three times, sniffed
and began to tout his goods.

He bought a sculpture of a fish
swallowing a man-
according to its state of mind.


Inside the head-
ripped, unfinished,
moving scrapes of images.

Closer and further plans,
brightened or blurred,
panoramas and close-ups through a peephole:
unfortunates and paupers,
mud hut doors shamefully ajar,
a bat’s flapping at night,
slimy mud,
dried human excrements,
lively buzzing,
herds of flies, larvae and worms,
rows of caterpillars and bunches of oval,
shiny eggs
of an unknown origin,
circular spider webs,
alive garbage dump.

With a Concorde nose,
inside the daily shroud of white gauze-
he thought:

This World has been discovered wrongly.