the psychology of excreta

Elisha Oluyemi

after the fatal excretion she closed her eyes. she didn't even hear the sound of her creation. right—who else would want to see their own mess? would you smile at it and caress it? scoop it up so you can see it everywhere you go? i know a mother who peeks from the distance and runs from her child god's creations are little weird stuffs he created them all & cast over them a halo of wonderment. in this poem i see an excrement ponder why the door of an original home closes. and why the pit would call itself a home. ever since I've grown older, I wear dark glasses to the restroom— see, I'm only upholding the ritual that brought me here. were I a mother, would I also close my eyes after my excreta cries its way to life? my fate is a fan blade: all my families are apart. a woman left, a woman comes I stretch my hand to hold her hands and she runs, giggling… lovers often catch themselves, but what if a lover is asthmatic? what if she had tossed away her inhaler thinking I was enough breath for her little life? how did I become another excreta? say: why did two women close their eyes?

Elisha Oluyemi won the 2022 Lagos-HCAF Contest (Prose) and has a psychological thriller forthcoming in the 2023 Mukana Press Anthology of African Writing. He co-edited the PROFWIC Crime Fiction Anthology, Vol 1, won the 1st-runner-up prize in the 2022 Shuzia Flash Fiction Competition, and is a mentor under the SprinNG Fellowship initiative. Elisha also has writing published/forthcoming in Mystery Tribune, Brittle Paper, L=Y=R=A, The Bitchin' Kitsch, Sledgehammer, Terror House, 100-Word Project, Salamander Ink, Ngiga Review, African Writer, Arts Lounge, Kalahari Review, TSTR, and elsewhere. He writes in the psychological and literary genres. Tweets @ylisha_cs.