Listen, ego-needing man in brown beret
Pitched have I
My tent
Under the bridge at Oshodi
It is a gargantuan castle
Of the close-fitting air
That surrounds me roundabout
While I snake-coil
On the sleepy-waterbed
Away at an angle
Unabated visitation without a knock
Sonorously,
Friendly mosquitoes flap-in their wings
To demand their pound of my flesh; in blood
My crime?
Competition over their waterbed of crèche
Come, power-hungry man in camouflage
Observe my home, and answer me
“Am I not a happy man?”
Never worried about burglars
Thoughts of inferno trouble me not
Rather, the close-knit brotherhood of the bridge
Are bureaucrats with broad chests
Answer me, “Am I not a happy one?”
Now, hungry man in black
Arrest me!
Take out your cuffs
And land it on my hands; lock it
Let my hands have a feel of that cold jewelry
While you escort me, as a king
To that castle of rest; the jail
Where only privileged mosquitoes
Are allowed in to dine with me
Where my food is portioned by maids
Where the gates are manned
By stern-looking uniformed men
Where I shall lay to think uninterrupted!
Now, man in black
Escort me to that palace
Of lazy men, called jail
I want to rest!
The sublimeness of solitude and freedom in incarceration.
