By Tikum Mbah Azonga
Will the end lines cross at last
Or will they like the forsaken lap dog
Bark at the wrong target and pop up uninvited for dinner
Letting loose the molten crow bar and cursed smoke-coated lips
Like another loose canon?
Will the Fon`s whistle blower finally blast
Or will the folded window blinds refuse to twitch
Making Mary’s Christmas puddings look like
Half baked cake for the outgoing Moderator?
Surely, that’s why our dining lines will never intersect.