Thursday, November 29, 2012

THE VOTER (a sonnet of sorts)


You are the fool that sold his people for crumbs:
You stole their hopes, deceived their eager thumbs!
...
I have eaten the moin moin together with the wrapping leaves
And unsweetened akamu that never passed through sieves!
I have eaten boiled groundnut with the tasteless shells
At the compelling impulse of wicked hunger spells!

I have used water and salt to cure stomach aches
And ice block in fist, I have fought recalcitrant headaches!
Diarrhea I have cured over with raw akamu from Mama Risi,
For even if I could get the money, do you, here, any hospital see?
...
So when you come to me now, smiling like a circus Gorilla
(One moment away from the comforts of your Villa),
And you talk to me of sweet nothings, I listen mute,
For I can play only discordant tunes on my flute.

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