Casebearer Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

Eyes run faster
than a wall patch.
And the patch
flies off eyes' reach,

but rolls on,
its wheels gliding
on a slippery

path to the wilderness
of my wall's pitch,

widening into
my pushing myopia.

And my winged
far-sightedness pulling
far-flung specks

swelling into ostriches
and bustards
from a simple casebearer,

the speck sinking
its roots
into the swelling wall,
when I see it

walking and galloping,
as I stare it
with lying eyes
on a river's ripple.

(ii)

The casebearer
on the wall
sits planted into its
winged cocoon.

Glued to its
drifting speck,

spinning with my eyes
shooting out
from my pillow, as I lie,

stretched out
in bed, morning dew
still gripping my eyes.

(iii)

How eyes cling
to lies
in a cream light,

crushing truth
with a hammer
of elastic sight

into the sea
of a wall
drowning a casebearer

to bathe in silt,
as it pops up
with a thick gray coat.

And I hurl out
arrows from my eyes

to capture
the same casebearer
as a still
brown and grayish
mote tightly

glued to a drifting wall
in the sailing
ship of my bedroom
on wavy waters

by a storm wave
its glass wings
to shatter my sight
into shards of lies.