kwari ta kwayar
insects in the grain
insects in the grain? no cause to cast to
the winds value; to throw away what is
needed.
sift, sieve the grain, throw away the
bugs. it takes a bit of time but think of
what you will save.
i am sifting grain; the coarsely ground
flour of truth, stored long, almost
forgotten. it is crawling with bugs.
tiny brown voracious pests devouring
many times their weight.
i pick them out along with stones. one by
one, pausing to consider each & the
damage done.
it’s funny how one can dismiss the flour
because of these.
i have purchased my share of nigerian
grain, many a mudu at great expense; a
mixed blend of wild, & hybrid.
i have stored it away & allowed it to
become infested such that picking out
bugs is routine requisite to eating.
washed, though, in my secret tears;
roasted in my anger, nigerian grain is as
nourishing as any.
my soul grows fat.
©Joseph McNair; 2009
The picture of juvenile innocence is well chosen to compliment the poem's searing accusation: man's seemingly boundless capacity for exploitation and victimization.
ReplyDeleteI think this comment is for a childhood's end, but thanks Rene, i get the point.
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