NIGHT SALES

It’s a quarter to six

Their faces fix

To go to work this precious night

 

They weed their plots

And spray their lands

In short and brief to give plenty a calling

 

They fence their gardens with panty clads

With very bushy mermaid hair

Water the gate with red blood, of the many beautiful grown flowers

 

Now their lands are good for sale

They develop walks which call the lot

And stand under the disco bridge, to let the buyers see their charm

 

What is it that all ye want?

Money, fame or justified cause?

It is not the work I seek to know, but the intent lying somewhere within.

    Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © 2014.