Wide Inside Society

While the man with a gun
At the war front lives on,
The man at home dies
while sitting on his best couch,
Watching his best TV program; matters arising.
His belly reminds me of the village
And my grandmother’s clay water pot.
He has been dead for years now,
But he does not know yet.
He is thrilled by the pencil on the white man’s face,
“My nose must look like that” he says.
His brain is drilled and washed
By thrilling nostrils.
He says yes to all the white man says, no nos.
But God knows he was killed by a nose.

Younglan Louis