Sun. May 26th, 2024

By Mutiu Olawuyi

In the sacred abode of Lord’s servants,
things beyond human’s sights and pants
steer the land of choice to live
and voice in tones that fit your cliff…

Ample hopes scrambled by tramps
as they’re made to turn Bidens and Trumps
in the fight to rule the White House,
the Sacred home where orb bows…

When canny donkey beats crummy elephant,
the White House john sprays its fetid deodorant –
carefully hidden for eons by chosen guards,
glowed with mushy tongues like palace bards…

Upon tramps are tramped by venal beast
that whines and dines with brutes in east…
with inks and acts of hates, splits, and dearth
that flock the land with coro-death…

Potus in Potus out, White House remains,
for thirsty tramps, new guard summons rains…

*(1st presented at 2020 Ghana Poetry Festival)*

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