Collaborative Poem by:
Stephen Mupoto [Ngugi Wamkiri] stanza 1
Norman Mwale [The PenPusher] stanza 2
They told me,
Besides that crypt,
When we buried fortune,
And still sang a deep dirge,
That was a eulogy,
To the birth of young penury,
Who in his prime,
Was loud mouthed and gagged
All to the dock, of abject dearth.
And now eulogies manifest
Into sores of traversed hope
In this iron boot. This squiffy life!
That season their upper lip
Was hinged like The Pink Lady’s
Slipper
Which cornered the impeccant
Who now trammels on scurvy
Theories,
Casting shadows on this
Buried fortune,
Only to sing a fresh coronach
Of a dearthfull death
With souls wiggling inside this
Whirligig
Grappling their way out for freedom!
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