As Ananse weaves his nest
So will I weave these words given to me in simple terms
Well, many claim to be holy spirits
So seek out their Marys in the physical
Ably aided by “Waist and Power”
Hopefully, they aim at digging wells
In their Marys who also deserve to carry wells
To feed the thirst of their bodies
As their tongues are like heated saucepans
Needing anything to cook
Their tummies becoming their prized garbage can
Accepting it all
And their lands; their pay checks
Ready to be sold for digging
Satan says to tell you
He won’t take any blame
None at all
Not for STIs
Not for artificial Jesuses
Not for swindling
Not for demolishings of marital walls
None at all

Like an ant
All must eat
Those who eat like vultures
Must know they have no audience like vultures do
Even hyenas make dumpsters
So look all you like
As long as a grass hopper
Does not seek to dress painted like a butterfly
When rains sometimes descend sky lands warningless
Only to sell itself into debt
Owing legs  which crash in anguish
Satan says to tell you
It will take no blame
No matter how hot your hands can be
After robbing it together
Light the sky all you want
It won’t take no blame
None at all

Those who turn fishes
And swim even at night
If even fishes drown in their waters
Be careful
Satan says to tell you
He won’t take blame for your death
He won’t take any spiritual gunshots
From your families
Neither will he take traditional firings
So look before you leap

For those who are like centipedes
Dancing even without music
While living in the anus of villages
Satan says to tell you
He won’t take any blame
Not for shattering hymens
Not for enlarging wells
Not for missing things
Not for missing parts
Not for missing breaths
Let alone take the hatred of those who failed to set you right

For those who think happiness
Dwells in bottles
Or questionable leaves
And powders
And or needles
Satan says not this time
He won’t take blame for your sanity
So you can go ahead and light your noses
Like rat holes
Or make those noses bowls hosting and dispensing powdered doughs
Or your veins channels of poisonous waters
As long as you write your caretakers those letters
Of exoneration

Like a megaphone
His words have sounded
Like a travelling sea
His words have flowed
Like a better Ananse
I know I clearly wove the nest
The nest he requested
So do all you please
Leaving him out in harvest of your planted problems
Lest he visits with a thunderous curse
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015


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