The Maggot Poem by Alex Adeoye

Happenings are the events
Whose dealings roll away into history
As history are biographies of men
Whose activities snowball to stories.

Historians are not 'professor Peller'
Whose business was to entertain
If they move, time take it, not for play
No be moi moi, no be plantain.

They are the moving pen with eagle eyes.
Clairvoyance is their compass.
I heard a call, the crow is cro
What we have as Country is carcass.

"Take it out from our midst;
The maggot and her dip belly,
Enemy of the absolute, dipping our prosperity
Like erosion feeding a bottomless pit."

Anomic essence is sinister at per
Ravaging the soul of my dear country
As if no one is aware
Of the vultures lucking around.

Imagine a maggot in a Mather
Who walks into it harmlessly with smiles
Clandestine moves at wee hours
Walk itself into generations in folds.

They eat vivaciously per second billing.
How fleshy is the mutton?
It collapses for the march of maggots
Releasing us free as slave.