Sauntering in gutters
Abysmal whiffs walk proudly and shatters
Noses, avoiding hoses, holds hands
With flies which feast happily on caked defecations
As the mosquitoes sing happy melodies on me
A toad takes advantage of darkness and winds
The throats of others to make them bullhorns to fit the situations
Situations of the lantern flies, of sleeping infants and I
But I dawdle in its peace, seeing as they are better
Than the brightness of many hypocritical teeth
A roar walks on its hind legs
Its voice being the benevolent warner.
Still sauntering, no rush
What is there to see?
The pain of my broken bones in cannibalistic mouths?
That’ll be for a few minutes
Then peace will talk
Of my non-existence
There will be no appetisers of fear and taunts
Neither will there be pepper to garnish my eyes
Sauntering with mind musings
A bit amusing, the injections of these insects
Funny, the peace with which the infants sleep
Without the knowledge of the theft of the mosquitoes
Streetism stench and pride deserves a boasting.
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
Mum Cee 