Our Sisters Have Gone Mad Poem by ANTHONY ANIGBATA

OUR SISTERS HAVE GONE MAD

Our sisters have gone mad
They have all come out of their houses naked
Showing their stalk skins to the street
In the name of fashion
They are now slaves to aberrant styles
And lunatic clothiers, who prefer to live back
In the early days of Eden
They have buried the smock of shame
So they expose their contours
And their bare bleached bodies to the sun,

Yet they vehemently argue that
They feel a film of ferminity
In that atrocious filt-siut.
In our village then, only the mad walk stalk naked
In the street, but our sisters who have also gone mad
Today show their famished bodies
As they walk to and fro, the tarred roads.
You see, even the Abbess is naked,
The market woman and the undergraduate
Too naked, like harlots hanging in hotels

O naked woman, what are thy intentions?
To seduce the street and deny men of grace
Or sell thyself to suitors who now are scares.

Our sisters have gone mad, they now waddle round this shore
In their heinous robes of shame
Showing their rangy structures to the lustful
Eyes of men
Though here, the harmattan befriends not the skin
And the sun too harsh to the exposed epidermis

O naked woman, shame on you
Shame to you Sheila, you seducing our sons
Shame on you leggy lass
You who quest to live back in Eden

Our sisters have finally gone mad.
Even the goats and sheeps are covered
With hide, the birds with painted feathers
But our sisters, our very sane sisters
Who should be covered with cloths
Prefer to go naked, showing heir rangy structures to the street.