… with eyes still offloading yesterday’s
affliction he sprouts before the cock yawns,
robes out flawlessly in multiple sighs,
wings swiftly like the eagle though in legs in this unripe morn
But who cares anyway, come rain, come shine,
so long he meets the Lord’s demands!
Hours later,
He wars his way through in stretched queues for bussing,
a domain more of a sick bay where impatience
kings daily, or
At other times, travel with rogues who hiss
their venoms brewed in marijuana.
bad smells,
breath and black teeth’s…
Unchanging LAGOS!
Long last he is job home but as always
He is boyed around, and in most times, smashed
by uncultured juveniles the king
But he MUST be hallowed if meals, fat or lean
will stay atop tables:
if not his, his dependents,
Or to escape the sword mouthings of inertial at least.
Night falls once more!
He is Tired!
Restless!
Headached and unjuiced!
Same tale this day,
WEEK long and perhaps, Sabbaths inclusive,
And just for kwashiokred coins that burns flesh
more on the highway he hunts time again and more.
This corporate hustler, NO, slave I think.
At Twilight!
He Returns to BRT or Danfo …
stand through or sit Three and Four hours long
in habitual gridlock,
To rest, home he travels to his marginalized quarters or haven .
Tensioned! He retires in grave earth.
Again, Piecesized!
bones, cracked and almost falling…
…Backs down again to bed,
brains remodeled to rise at four Am as always,
Awful Earth!
How long, this mess?
This ‘rat race’,
This caging,
And his battle should he behold?
How soon will honey grow from
Passion or Pension,
Self caging or FREEDOM
The choice is yours to make.
This poem reflects the agony of paid employment especially with the Lagos employee
