Gone are the days
when clouds are pregnant

wailing wean child lulls
with Lullaby

days of the primitive
when monument glint like the sun

hours of the benevolent wealth Ajé
where monies whipped the idle

Àwẹ̀ró, with her big halves & breasts
bewitch men and their morsel

days when the juicy fruit in mother’s womb
play with his ball and socket joint

amphibians speed like an athlete
totem, stories of gesture

days of the patriarchy
where monarchs are Monarchs

witty, kola for the elders…



By poetryinjection

I'm a Poet, Writer and a Social critic

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