TRAFFIC.

By Roseline Mgbodichimma Anya Okorie

The shirtless man is eating dough

& gulping a bottle of gas,

A recipe that is three square meals

For him

The pregnant mum of two toddlers

Is trying to squeeze herself between a Mazda & a Benz

Children flash film-coated sweets at windshields

Till heat leads to the purchase of mint

Beggars sit on tar,

Arms stretched out for any samaritan to reach

I am here behind tinted glass

A spectator of lives more meaningful

Than mine

In Traffic,

I am reminded that living

Does not reside in luxury

& As the red moves me to a halt,

I remember how my heart stopped

When my lover called to end it

The amber reminds me of urine,

How I peed into multiple test kits,

Hoping the strips would double

As notification for a child

It is green

& there is not much else to go home to

I don't move until the warden

Flags at me with his gloves

Gloves: Accessories enabling

the picking of unwanted fruits from my belly

When my lover says this is not it's season

Roseline Mgbodichinma is a Nigerian writer whose works have appeared or are forthcoming in Isele, Native skin, The Hellebore, Serotonin Poetry, West Trestle Review, X-ray lit mag, JFA human rights mag, Serotonin poetry, Blue Marbel Review & elsewhere. She won the Audience Favorite award for the Union Bank Campus writing challenge - Okada books, she is the third prize winner for the PIN food poetry contest and a finalist for the Shuzia Creative writing contest. You can reach her on her blog www.mgbodichi.com