We pray mainly in the alleys of memory.
There, shards of smiles glitter the ground, but
here we wear—almost—identical names
as scars, though you won't or can't remember 
what date I was born. Something trickles down
the side of my face. In some versions this 
may be all you have taught me: needles are
hollow lines which collapse as many families
as veins. Now a convict in death's work camp,
you wither each day until we may count your
T-cells with one hand. When Mama's voice begs
from the phone "Please buy a dark suit to wear,"
i may be wrong—but I say "Don't some of us
wear black all day, everyday, anyway?"
from the book IDEAS OF IMPROVISATION / Thread Makes Blanket 
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This poem (besides being an unrhymed sonnet) is a form I created and call a Colorpuntal—a cross between an Erasure poem and a Contrapuntal. All of the text forms the “host poem” & the maroon text forms the “ghost poem” which ideally should trouble or complicate the host poem. The idea is to try to express what Jorie Graham called “the fullness of existence I feel in contradiction." 

Joel Dias-Porter on "Father, Son and the Holy Ghost"
Photo of Gboyega Odubanjo at the Barbican Young Poets rehearsal in 2019
Gboyega Odubanjo To Be Awarded Posthumous Degree

"Gboyega had been studying for a PhD in creative writing at the University of Hertfordshire at the time of his death....The university says it can award a doctorate posthumously if the work is close to being ready for submission or examination. It made the decision because so much of Gboyega's creative work was in the public domain, or was about to be published."

via BBC NEWS
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Cover of Annulet #2
What Sparks Poetry:
Robin Myers on Other Arts


"I stopped to watch a group of people doing something odd and beautiful together on a patch of dry grass. Was it a dance improvisation workshop? An actors' warm-up? I couldn't tell, but it felt special to see them doing it. They drifted around and moved their limbs, interacting sporadically with their surroundings and each other, in a way that felt both spontaneous and coordinated, both public and private. Both practiced and unfinished, even unfinishable. They used only their bodies, no language at all."
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