At every knock they panic “Who’s it?” be their eternal cry They scurry here And flurry there To hide the stock Of their filthy gains Under the bed… inside the roof Away–away, from piercing eyes. Politrickcians of our time Their “Come in” Takes long in coming “Whozit? Whozit? Remains their incessant bleat For wealth gathered in … Continue reading Whozit?
The one-sided smile on his face disappeared as he sneezed and sputtered a generous amount of phlegm. Then it returned, twice as cold. The turn-out had been massive, with women in golden heels, bust-revealing attires, head gears of varying radii, and men in brightly colored agbadas and babarigas. The highlife music blaring from the … Continue reading Cold hands
Walking on my toes, silently, from the bedroom into the kitchen; I cut into the big loaf of bread with the sharpest knife on the cabinet long before you wake. I want no sounds heard; this silence is my power and warm bed. Your food is served- ready to be dipped into when you awake. … Continue reading Loneliness is a warm bed