A Naming Day by Odia Ofeimun

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Festive draperies override the claims of

bread and fresh air in this house

Gaudy buntings take breath away

from the newborn muffled in damask

in lace, in nameless riots of colours.

Mothers redress the loss of breast-milk

(so indecent to breast-feed children

now that mothers have turned mummies)

sorcerers of the supermarket conjuring

toys to people the lonesome hours

of unsung nurseries

Mothers have turned mummies

and growing up means to grind and wallow

in adult games of self-deceit

before the antimony of truth has time

to lay its fingers on the little heads