I’ve been pouring libations
At your altar,
As a good priest should;
Every hour with the accompanying prayer.
Every day I come,
With good mornings, hellos and how are you’s
Waiting for the hour of your great mercy
Hoping you’ll respond to me today.
Not the nonchalant responses of courteous acquaintance
Or the quick instruction of digital bosses
Could you be present today
As present as you are with those other friends?
Those who are found in your life frame
Well safe from the crop zone,
Where your caption is one half emojis made of heart
And the other deep and meaningful words.
The more I thirst for your presence
The more I pour out libations
So much I almost don’t notice the rickety beating
Of this dry and tired heart.
You’re a gilded goddess with carnelian eyes
The magic of stupor in y’ournate shrine
Something about you’s like the blazing sun
That heals and burns me at the same time.
Your altar – all you are in space and time
A shadow on the street, a tweet online;
Has me bound and dazed like a serf
Tethered for even an iota of your attention that’s wholly mine.
My Father says I’m an idolater
Sick with the sin of David and Solomon
Surely this I do not deny
I seek a remedy for this bedeviled design.
Joel Benjamin Ntwatwa 2016