Buy Your Own Poem by samuel nze

They are not happy
Playing kalo-kalo
And drinking palm wine
In their village
Their mates are in Lagos
Driving big cars
The lean face left over
From yesterday's quarrel
Over the land at the forked bush
Looks regretfully at the fly
That perches on the
Okporoko that she ganished
With bitterleaf soup and nsam
He stares viciously at this intruder
He raises his hand
And strikes at the fiend
One smack and it is dead
Then comes the spiteful hiss
Why can't you buy your own!