samedi 19 décembre 2009


By Tikum Mbah Azonga
(For Voilet)

I will send it to your box
To your email
To your world
To your universe
To your God
I will send it to all of them
Leaving no stone unturned
So that in the end
When the chickens come home to roost
And the curtains are drawn
Everyone will have a tale to tell.

No, I won't come wearing socks
In case you think I'm on bail
I'll remember all the things heard
Even if I'm in reverse
I won't quiver like a pod
So that if ever I have to go to Bethlehem
It won't be for just a life bout
Nor will it be for the mail returned
But in case you think I've gone round the bend
And that I haven't read Proust
Then the South West Technical Committee needs a prawn
To win me back, send the colour violet and a bell.

copyright 2009

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