To the poems I hate

the commas that refused to invert
it wasn’t me, it was the reverse
the full stops that didn’t stop
the adjectives that didn’t qualify
nouns that didn’t find a place to sleep
similies that struggled to compare
the dumb onomatopoeia coerced to sing-
to the lies disguised as a hyperbole
you were all created in the image of me
I am the felo de se that lives in the air

Tomide Abdul