I have had times
When I bake poems all alone
I have been heard
Speaking on the street all alone.
If it's a love poem
I will journey through
The lovely streets of Rome
Till the danfo conductor
Calls for fares from my row
I pass my fare unto Angelou
The gem with whom I share a womb
To continue my wonder, I say
To the bottomless seats
In my home
Why fear! Why fear!
Why fear the dreaded man in the market? I am deadlier
I roam with a pocket-sized machete, I kill words
And I bury them in plain caskets
Made from wooden chips
Gotten from wood markets
I hawk a dread
Of poetic madness
To the doors of educated dudes
Who suck the goodness
Of my lunatic juice.
Though, I may be ragless
But, I am madder
Than the man you fear
Crazier than the man in beards
Sitting at the junction
With some ghosty peers.
•Lunacy•
©Michael Oluwasegun Adesiji
(Onyedikachi; The Cub To The Seven Gods)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem