By Tikum Mbah Azonga
(For Jessie Atogho Ekukole)
By every account
Words were not what he lacked
But they came out poorly
At the wrong place and at the wrong time.
So he sweated like a failed mass boy
His scarlet face clacked and clattered ceaselessly
His large feet now as heavy as lead
And his mouth filled with sputum and venom.