^{Motivated forgetting is a psychological defense mechanism whereby people cope with threatening and unwanted memories by suppressing them from consciousness.
            —Amy N. Dalton and Li Huang}

              in Badagry there is a hung-
              ry well of water and memory

                                                         loss. in Badagry there was a well 
                                                         of people lost across a haven 

of water. in Badagry there was
a port overwhelmed in un-return. 

                                    to omit within the mind is to ebb
                                    heavenward. memory is a wealth 

                                                      choking the brain in un-respons-
                                                      ibility. violence in the mind and 

                                    the mind forgets in order to remember
                                    the self before the violence begot. 

in Badagry trauma washes ungod-
ly memory heavenward. in Bad-

                                       agry there is an attenuation well 
                                       meant to wish away a passage, 

                                                                      meant to unhaven a people.
                                                                      violence is underwhelming

                                         in return. what the body eats, 
                                         the mind waters. responsible 

is the memory for un-remittal. 
royal is the body for return. god is

                                     the mind for wafting. forgetting 
                                     is a port homeward. in Bad- 

                                                   agry hungry memory grows angry.
                                                   in Badagry the memories un- 

                 choke. trauma un-eats the royal. 
                 in Badagry there is a heaven 

                                               of people responsible for the birth- 
                                               right of remembering, for the well 

                                      of us across a haven of water
                                      overwhelmed in un-return.

land of buildings & no good manners land of sunless people & offspring of colonizers land of no spice & small pox land of fake flowers land of shackle & branches made of rope land of wire fences grabbing sky land that mispronounces my grief land that skins my other land that laughs when my people die & paints targets on my future children’s faces land that steals & says mine land that plants mines & says go back land that poisoned my mother & devoured her body land that makes my other language strange on my tongue land that stripped our saris & clips haloes to its flag land that eliminates cities land that says homeland security land that built the first bomb & the last land that killed my father & then sent back his body land that made me orphan of thee I sing.

A young man learns to shoot
& dies in the mud
an ocean away from home,
a rifle in his fingers
& the sky dripping
from his heart. Next to him
a friend watches
his final breath slip
ragged into the ditch,
a thing the friend will carry
back to America—
wound, souvenir,
backstory. He’ll teach 
literature to young people
for 40 years. He’ll coach
his daughters’ softball teams. 
Root for Red Wings
& Lions & Tigers. Dance
well. Love generously. 
He’ll be quick with a joke
& firm with handshakes.
He’ll rarely talk
about the war. If asked
he’ll tell you instead
his favorite story:
Odysseus escaping
from the Cyclops
with a bad pun & good wine
& a sharp stick.
It’s about buying time
& making do, he’ll say. 
It’s about doing what it takes 
to get home, & you see 
he has been talking 
about the war all along.
We all want the same thing
from this world:
Call me nobody. Let me live.