like it's out to kill,
the sun blazes,
to roast.
Inhabitants are ambivalent
Hawkers slice the traffic,
Their wailing voices
in cahoots with the deafening honking,
irritating and annoying
The noise for survival.
A city that will never die
populous and pompous
Poverty, emblazoned on its chest
We struggle,we survive
And we complain...
The streets are unlike sane
Lawmen extort with no shame
A preacher-man's bell shrills aloud
Beggars seek God's face in the cloud
The slothful and the jobless argue
at the newspaper stand
at the newspaper stand
A ticket-man grabs an okada-man
Lunatic fly the yellow buses
a knocked-down woman unleashes
curses.
curses.
by the road side
A destitute man makes porridge
under the bridge,
sharing his lighter with a lout
who makes out with ganja in a corner.
I am the pedestrian
a policeman just slapped.
poem by Adewale Samuel
