Saturday, 26 March 2011
My brother, my grave
Didn’t you just smile at me
A moment ago and call me brother?
Did we not just crack up together when
Coconut seller Joe said his dirty joke?
Now, you curse at me? Like a barren pawpaw tree
You hack me down, scattering my brain
Like old leaves in the grasp of a nasty, dry wind.
How can so much go wrong in so little time
Or did I just not see all along?
So much wrath beautifully wrapped
In colorful proverbs and ancient rituals…
Sparkling white teeth cleverly shielding
The heart of the rapist deep within.
And like a little girl paid a compliment,
I skip happily towards you, my brother, my grave.
It doesn’t get darker than a cocktail
Of blood, politics and sycophantic fools.
Africa’s only problem is Africa
And Africa is her only solution.
Congratulations once again to Accra [dot] Alt and the French Embassy for making it happen this year too. Too many people wanted to piss on t...