These days
Sex smells
Like a sacred billy goat
That roams
And eats as it pleases
Neither scolded nor beaten
It also sells
As unsold akara balls
At an open village market
In a harried winding up
At twilight
Harassed by imminent rain
On a dull business day
Cheap takeaway by parents
For their children at home
It's met everywhere one turns
To steer clear
And breathe fresh air
Fried in viper's venom
Flaunted as groundnut oil
A contaminated semen-loaded condom
Fierce sun roasting frail soil
Decapitating viable seedlings
Precious precarious packages
Of different sizes
Deployed tantalizingly
At all nooks and crannies
Traded in pennies
So that all can conveniently buy
And so have some toy.
(c) Chris Jibero.2011.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem