You Would Have Vexed Poem by Haruna Garba

When we were a colony yet,
prototype vehicles prevailed
winding handles on for starting job
for every new and beat-up old Ford
that went a gallon to a mile

One day when the mart was done
and every passenger was on board
the driver came to the wheel
waiting for the conductor to gun up.
To gun up their sleeping metal heap


So coming to the snout, he began
poked the winding handle and turned
only for the truck to come to life,
knock him over and leave him for dead

The police came to the scene
and readily took notes-
dear driver at fault

Finally before the judge,
a witness came to fore
to declare it wasn't the driver's fault
but instead, it's the dirty boy's damned fault
for in his grip was a metal shaft
what with, he kept poking the Ford's nose

Now your worship!
and your worship would have equally vexed,
had such a rod been shoved down his snout.