“Delphic Irony” by Tolu Oloruntoba

The witches three,

short, astigmatic,
give the prophecy

you must fulfill, or
not. Look at the trifocal injury

your father gave, as you
sharpen your own stake.

Look at me
running from the drink

that drowned his brother,
and from self-control.

Foretold wars do not kill
the lame; do not blame the gods

if they do not run. Or if they
do, and arrive to war. Be better,

if you can, having seen the hollow
you’re becoming.



Tolu Oloruntoba, born in Ibadan, Nigeria, is the author of the Anstruther Press chapbook Manubrium, and The Junta of Happenstance, a full length collection of poetry forthcoming from Anstruther Books. His poetry has appeared in Pleiades, Columbia Journal Online, Obsidian, This Magazine, and the Canadian Medical Association Journal and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. He lives in Surrey, BC. @toluini

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