The Messieurs, The Masses, The Messes

In our nation, a polar coalition
Petrodollars sprawl far from perturbation
Our headache – spending the oil boom
The long-capped president senses no doom

Thirty Gregorian calendars used and dumped
The tune up the pharynx metamorphosed and changed
Graft and his pot belly at large
Our dwindling fortunes the charge
Stopping the degradation has become our migraine
For the Head with bowler hat is a greenhorn

The interspace interlaced with impunity
Embezzlement dancing nude in profligacy
And the masses for their loyal sweat
Reap scathing suffering as the royal gift

Criminal self-interests
Garbed in good angel’s garments
Alas, we’re effectively cornered
The last staple on our table effortlessly robbed

Our men of defensive arms
With jackboots and butt of guns
Seize the highest office for years
And our men of flowing garbs
Through riffles and meager baits
Secure votes to the highest office in tons

Khaki or linen
We wonder the difference
As we waste away with our wealth
And our land traded away with its resources
Decrees and bills are busy on our theatre of troubles
Laughing us to scorn from their nest of cozy feathers

Abiodun Soretire

About Ijagun Poetry Journal

Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
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