THIS IS ACCRA (Crazy Stanzas)

I love Accra
Which exist like heaven to a village dreamer
But in reality, is a cane soaked in kerosene
And smeared with pepper
On the skin of a greener pasture traveler

II
I love the name of Accra
Whose birthed names can fill the Korle Lagoon
And litter its centre
While its pregnant ones churn in heads walking unnoticed
On bodies mostly outlawed

III
I love the taste of Accra
Where landlords are Gods of destinies
House-lords are gods of wages
Kiosk-lords are gods of bodies
Street lords are gods of lives
And selves are sorries hovering from maybes to will-of-God

IV
I love the zeal of tricksters of Accra
Whose suits speak truths that its bodies pest into falsehoods
Fingers act faster than minds
Tongues mesmerize better than wines
And whose trustworthiness beats that of priests chairing confessions

V
I love the state of Accra
Where bigger fishes reach smallest holes for even the slightest delicacies
While smaller ones struggle in the biggest space for their trash
Don’t I love that bigger birds rest
On tired wings of the smaller
Just to fly higher?
Oh I love that guinea fowls rule domestic ones
In feathers of eagles
Served all there is at home and sleeping in their Burkinas
To be safe from ambush

V
This is Accra
Where your dreams sit in your head
As your poor feet struggle to stay soreless
Your bright eyes need your hands to see right
As your fair mind blame your heart for a preposterous push
This is Accra
Filled to the brim with wholes of desperation
Stifling aspirations in utter damnation
This is Accra, city of all you can and can’t be
This, this, this is Accra
Close your ears to sounds of hunger from weak mouths
Shut your eyes from street beings of boards with countable bones
You might be them in time’s time
If eaters find you not or vice versa
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © July 2, 2018