Taunt Tactics Poem by Haruna Garba

Here in our savannah
And there is no place
To offer ease for trailing
Than the savannah sand

Here were trackers
Here were distinct footprints
Feet lacking in all fingers
Feet bereft of definite course
Whence they came
And whither they went
Interpretation left alone to intellect

A leper! Indeed a leper!
Their thief must have been

Here they advanced
Here was the armed procession
Trailing the obvious track
Which were only to terminate
Before some stack of cornstalks
And here, the dilemma all began
For after casing up the stack
It proved to be a deadlock
Well, said the doyen
He couldn't disappear in to space
But where could he be?
This flatfoot…..this rammer-foot
Where could he be?
And with these few taunts
The thief was flushed out
For no sooner were the taunts done
Their touchy frog croaked
Their irritable beast broke cover
To protest his acquired insults