Gun Merchant Poem by Mbusya Wa Mbusya

The place is here,
We wait,
The plane touches down,
anxiety mounts,
The guest, a Caucasian man
Arrives,
Glad in Dark suit and white shirt
And tie,
Holding executive briefcase
Strides on…
Wearing a business-like smile

We sign papers,
Many papers,
Over Ethiopian coffee,
We exchange smiles,
And occasional laughter,
Sipping Puente Alto*,
Over Langosta Cantabrica*,
And take briefs of Syria
Turmoil of Gaza,
Siege of Donetsk,
Crime-wave of Nairobi,
The Johannesburg gangs,
Somalis' clan war
The Clouds of Kashmir,
We tossed for Boko Haram,
Anti Balaka, Al shabaab....

Exactly twenty past midnight,
We stand again in waving bay,
The guest flies to Caracas,
To connect to Chihuahua,
Then Bogota and Sao Paulo.

Then photos come:
Of Anzio 20mm sniper,
The beret M82,
TAR 21 Assault rifle…,
And him in Copacabana, Rio.