A Dream About My Grandfather’s Masquerade In Which It Dances From A Holographic Projection At The Museum Of The Future, Dubai

By Michael Okafor

If you had watched with me,
you would’ve seen it too:
7-ft river of light pouring
from behind the throat of a projector—
the customary emergence of a god
from an anthill—refracted light
pointed towards empty space.

The pixelated brilliance of cowries
upholstering its body, ankle bells
breaking into a choir of birds.
I translate the Nsibidi on its back—
mispronouncing father as farther.
I am sorry, distance prunes the consonants
from my tongue like a wilting rose.

I watch as it lifts its feet
like an animal unhooking its jaw
from the neck of its prey. Anthropomorphic
god of order, kaleidoscopic skin pulsating
with the music of the drum,
arms cutting through augmented air,
the algorithm of feet shuffling
on red earth, the orchestrated fall
of a leaf, light collapsing into light—
an alliteration of an ardent arabesque.

There’s a makeshift village square
in the background, a shrine sitting silently
in the corner like the shadow
of a dead animal,
3D cobwebs of people cheering
to the bleached impermanence of the metal gong,
their mouths glinting like the rim
of a wet calabash.

It keeps pointing in the direction
of everything I’ve lost,
its waist swirling like a river
in late June.

BIO:
Michael Okafor is an Igbo-born writer from Nigeria. His works explore the human condition. He is a member of the Nwokike Literary Club. A fellow of the SprinNG Creative Writing Fellowship ‘23. A first runner-up at the 2023 SprinNG Annual Poetry Contest. His poem was longlisted for the Briefly Write Poetry Prize 2023. He’s on Instagram @okaformichael0808, and on X @okaformichael_