There will be no nightmares to threaten with a troop of teeth. 
No shadows that cling onto walls & heighten all I fear. 

Tonight, the flesh acknowledges its episodes of panic. 
How often it has bred a populace of anxieties & silenced

the aftermath. I uncork a Jack Daniels, nearly fill
a glass, address the glass with an interest that only

a pair of hungry eyes can afford. A gulp unhusks
a sting that follows a thunder which rocks the place

of my throat. So much agony housed in one's bloodstream. 
Later, the tongue aided by practice will grow a shell.   

As I drink to what's with me, this crisp moment of loneliness,
I remember that I'm entitled to a session with God but imagine

if he ever entertains visitors in the courtyard that the sky carries.
To pray or turn to pretense, a Tigris of indecision awaits crossing. 

Michael Akuchie is a poet proud of his Igbo-Esan heritage. His debut chapbook, Wreck (December 2020, The Hellebore Press), selected by José Olivarez, received the 2019-2020 Hellebore Poetry Scholarship Award. He reads submissions for Frontier Poetry, Whale Road Review and tweets @Michael_Akuchie.