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