With him is one walk to meeting a monster
for trademarked with broken shells is the life
that gives life to charcoal face(s) and lips
upon canvas’ all painted with stitches, and
fire laden eyeballs;
And with white wrapped wild weed,
the patriotic folk in-between fingers
or lips that winds up skies at steady sizzling;
the fuel for street staging where Banana(s) landlord(s).
Ferocious as cats. Hell-deep of voice(s);
Of heart(s), metals where felony galas
And who dare dares
who hopes to return skin-smooth
when fusioned at their gardens where they are green,
ripe and time bombs that missiles at every irritation,
lean or plump?
Call him the road bishop;
he whose ant-full mind is laced with Anini’s ‘heroics;
A ready-made arsenal for messiahs during Selections;
Aristocrat(s) at pocketing;
Area governor(s) whose payroll(s) shelters the ‘Men in black’
so that justice is tamed for ‘Roger’s’ sake.
Call him the Agbero for with the street is heaven on earth.
(…in appraisal of street lords, specifically of Lagos)