What is left?

Sometime ago with two zero-five zero

Penny or coins in kobo

I stuck my right hand on my tight pence

Gird my loins on my afro logo

Straight to the market go

With the confectionary confidence

I can afford a good meal recipe

Wasn’t that right? Now what’s left?


Mark it, even when twenty fifty comes

Twenties and fifties will no longer count like coins

Catch it! cash it! check it!

Sometime ago we only exported economic goods

Mixed with complementary cash crops

With no crooks, no frauds snooping in fogs

To scoop us of our resource

Wasn’t that right, now what’s left

no more export of cash crops but cash box

in exchange of arms and ammunitions

in the corner of every street, laying ambush

Invisible ambulance swept under the rug like

sh sh sh!

Sometime ago she usually shows decency in her outfit

Wasn’t that right, now what’s left. Fash!

It is all about flashy-as she catastrophically walks the street

Pointing her inviting cleavage at my innocent me

Don’t want to be a rapist still praying you save but

She regards my plea clichés

Sometime ago first class was first in the class

of those who never used glasses to slash marks

at those who splash cash like milking cows

Wasn’t that right, now what’s left is kept in the drawer

to a lot lots of plotted plot of credit

at the detriment of credible credence

sometime ago roads, constructions were done

With consideration of younger daughters and sons

of generations unborn

Wasn’t that right now what’s left

A three sixty degree spin to the left

To architechturize not terrorizing pot holes

But quick means of miscarriage on our roads

While they fly aero-plane is there plan

No wonder they landcrash before they crashland

In the net of EF-see see what I see

Yet nested by ICPC to sit and sip multina sip it

Check it when you find it don’t flip it

and it shall remind you that

this frankly candid view of mine is reduced

to critical criticism critically criticizing critic

But critical is the critique scripted in few transparent lines

Or extended script never wrote this piece

Just blotted inks leafing leafy leafs

Heave… heave… heave so you can hear-see

loud and clear that some time ago

September Poet was here

Said it yea!

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