mardi 10 août 2010


By Tikum Mbah Azonga

Now, go home
Go home quickly and tell them
Tell them that the Iron Gate is locked
No one goes in, no one goes out
Tell them that even so
There is yet no black smoke from the central chimney
Tell them to forget about beautiful women
Great poetry, repaired ribs, housewives’ combs
Tell them the Fon – the Supreme Ruler
Is hostage taken
And there is no appeal
Tell them the whole place smells
No, it stinks of politics, lies, deceit, pornography
And it’s too far gone
Tell them the only thing that can save us
I mean there are only three things
These are
The Almighty
The Almighty
And the Almighty.

Copyright 2010

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