In the midst of dry afternoon sun,
Flies hung wantonly on soiled tables,
beer bottles, confused waiting in open pubs
Loud smoke, vagrant noise everywhere

Kekenapeps in broken parts,
Young men, women fight
Their kids eat, communing with flies
masons mans hat,
gba men's cars
The streets littered with wealthy technocrats
Visible twirling smoke, blackened noise everywhere

In the midst of dry afternoon sun vagrant noise, black smoke from here and there, gba men make cool cash wearing basket hats, wife fight her husband, their kids communing with flies,
I and boma sat calmly in a bar.


by IWO O.EDWIN