When available
The gush was much
Morning and evening heavy
With sprees of owambe where
The petrodollars flew like swallows
And perched on corpses and bride and grooms
White elephants danced
And battered the barrels
The land cedded
Citizens scampered away
In all directions, refugees in their homeland
White elephants stood still
Amid weeds in abandonment
They cried foul
On the empty barrels
Still honey is there
And as well palm oil
Who want to go to the wild
For money when the copious flow
Churn out mints?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem