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Spirit Guides

By Kwaku Darko-Mensah Jnr.

Setting out from the northern edges, where rain is prayed for
Into the core where it is found threatening
I am greeted by a gust of ominous city sounds.

I watch a child fetch a ball from the Alajo gutter.
Her friends lower a line,
Their grip the only charter between her skin and the neglect beneath.

Ferried in a stream of peculiar light, drifting along,
A heap of discarded longings brought to the city.
Smell of sewage rises like altar smoke.

Beneath a council of godlike clouds
Her fate passes from one jurisdiction to another;
A new pantheon takes over.