AS APOCALYPSES WORK

You saintly quacking parrot

Sit on your legs

On the biggest tree of the land

And look at all like a slug on a couch

Watching a tragedy on a giant screen

And quack like tongues of a quack pastor

Who even knows not what he says

Remember there is a sea which feeds your tree

So when the foul air calls for a tsunami

All things will suffer and so will your tree

II

You see the dirty linens wash their owners

With soaps of deceit and darkness of clearance

You know the canoes being ridden by seas

Upon the instruction of abled hands

You know the bullets

Gunning all

Hues of

Anointed owners,

Never the

Apocalypses

So sit on your legs and quack like a duck

III

Won’t we all feel the heat of the sea?

Won’t we all feel the anger of the waves?

Won’t we all see the spears of the tsunamis?

Quack and quack and quack and quack

But know your saliva will crave the waters

Even before the seas swallow us whole

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2016

Image by Google pics