The Days of Yell-low by Abiodun Salako


Monday claws out of me like a rabbit

With nut belly and hopping suffixes:

These vanishing tiny goblins with the

Skin of urine, weaken, curse, weaken

Vein by vein erupting and shrieking

Tuesday is frozen yoghurt like Lila’s

Fibroid scooped with a spoon of cartilage,

A full moon for howling, for begging my bones

Leave me or soften like pork stew

Wednesday is the beginning of the Doll

My hands turn plastic, my carpals break

Like sugar canes to move, to stretch,

To grab the air like father’s clothes

Thursday, the sun is split on my plate

But I cannot eat: my mouth is an onion

Bilabial numbness, my hair falls off, my hip

Bones crack like paper and I am colour blind

The room of my eyes is jacked up mobile screen,

A face-book twitting obese nothing

Friday, the floor and I have the same brain

Our neurons are plastered in cement, I can

Only think stone and my shape turns flat

Saturday, the hollow carves itself inside out

Like a butcher right from my esophagus


I see how red the insides of a verb is;

How slimy they get sewing one another

After-words, my hair falls off like sunshine

Sunday, I am 23 tears old, a used thing

Peeled off paint tasting of nicotine

Somewhat convulsing in the wind




Abiodun Salako writes under the nom de guerre Neptunus. He is a wild addict, leprechaun, fictionator, editor and art collector. He is also a practicing neo-hedonist, neo-pagan and a resident at sea. He can be reached via his email:, his facebook account: Walter Eddington and his instagram account @ eddingtonwalter 


1 Comment

  • Rofiah Balogun July 1, 2018 at 10:23 am

    This is really deep. Very imaginative and compelling.


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