II

On his shoulders

the songbird bears a cloud of rain

seeking to wet

the parched earth of our land

that truth and justice

may sprout

with their caustic spikes

that prick wicked men

and amputate the feet of liars

II 

Pluck his eyes

with darts poisoned with falsehood ...

crush his lips on the German floor ...

Drag him to the gallows

and dissolve his carcass

in a bath of acid...

The freed songs of the songbird

are earthen pots

hedging the homestead.

When broken and ground

they become grog

that toughens the wills

of new pots.

Nsukka, August, 1998